


Somewhere Out There

by cinnamonjay



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Heartache, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonjay/pseuds/cinnamonjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felicity falls through a gate that takes her to a parallel universe, she finds herself in a world that is so much like her own, except for one very important thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Home isn’t a place at all. Home is having someone’s face light up when you come into a room. It’s knowing someone waits for you at the end of the day, someone who would be sorry if you never came back._  
_-Paula Cohen_  
_‘Gramercy Park’_  
  
-1-  
  
Felicity was falling.  
  
Falling down or up or all over the place, she didn't know. She felt like her mind was splintering into a thousand pieces, until she knew everything and nothing at the same time. Hell or nirvana. Heaven or oblivion. It was all one. It was all falling, falling forever.  
Images flashed through her eyes or was it her mind? Or was she there in the past, present, future? She saw her mom and her dad. She saw her friends, old and new. She was herself as a child and as a woman and then she was born and old at the same time. Her life, everything that made it up, she saw.  
  
She saw _him_. Always, everywhere, she saw him.

....

She came to with a gasp, feeling the crisp cold air blowing across her face, chilling her sweating skin. She blinked her eyes a few times, her mind slowing sinking back into her body.  
_Felicity Smoak,_ she thought to herself. _MIT, class of '09._

She tried to push herself up onto her elbows, realising that she was lying on hard concrete blindly blinking up into moonlit darkness, but a sharp ache in her side kept her from moving much. She hissed in pain, reaching down tentatively to her stomach. Her fingers came away sticky with blood.  
The sight of it, red in the moonlight against her pale skin, jolted her feeble, meandering mind.

Suddenly she remembered.

....

_Everything was exploding around her. At times she could see flashes of red zooming around the room - Barry, trying to contain the madness erupting all around them. Someone was screaming her name behind her, one of her friends. Caitlin? She didn't know and right at the moment, it didn't really matter. She had to shut down this gate, this stupid, worst-idea-ever gate that Harrison Wells had been building behind their backs.  
_  
_"Who the hell wants to travel to a parallel universe anyway?" she muttered to herself, flinching every other second as something new exploded in the room or a bullet whizzed by her head. "There's plenty enough to be doing here, isn't there?" Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she nervously bit her lower lip. "Except maybe if there's a world where I can spend the day sitting on a tropical beach, then I'd be interested."  
_  
_"Felicity," Caitlin gasped, appearing by her side. Felicity gave her a cursory glance, mentally checking that her friend wasn't sporting some sort of life-threatening injury that she was trying to hide. It was a habit she had picked up when she had started hanging out with superheroes and super geniuses who tried to save the world on a daily basis. Caitlin had a shallow cut on her forehead that was trickling blood down her temple onto her cheek, but otherwise she looked unharmed, sending a faint wave of relief through Felicity.  
_  
_"Can you close the gate?" Caitlin asked.  
_  
_"I think so," Felicity said, turning her full attention back to the controls. "If I just have enough time..."  
_  
_"We need to close it before Dr Wells can get through-"  
_  
_"I know!" Felicity said. "That's what I'm doing. And I know it's not closed, obviously I'm standing right next to it. Just give me a sec..."  
_  
_She tried to hone in her attention to the screen in front of her, which was easier said than done since to her left she could see Barry trying to hold back Wells while keeping the steady stream of hired henchman away from them; and behind her she could feel it, like a cold hand caressing the back of her neck - the huge, scary, whirring gate that had opened to a yawning, freaky nothingness...  
_  
_"Felicity..." Caitlyn said, her voice nervous.  
_  
_"I think I've got the sequence almost done...I just need to press-"  
_  
_Felicity reached over to the other panel to press the black button that would finish shutting down the gate, but her fingers brushed over it uselessly. She frowned. There was something wrong here. Why was everything growing dark around the edges? Why was her hand so heavy all of a sudden? Why did her stomach hurt?_  
_She looked down at her stomach and saw a bright red spot on her yellow dress. It was spreading, getting bigger and bigger.  
_  
_"Caitlin," she said, looking at her friend in shock. Caitlin turned to her, her eyes widening as she saw the bullet wound.  
_  
_"Oh god," she said, reaching out towards her.  
_  
_"Press the black button," Felicity whispered, and then she collapsed backwards, her legs no longer holding her up._  
_She passed through the gate, and then she was falling._

....

If she weren't freaking out, bleeding out, and trying her best not to pass out, Felicity might have done a few victorious fist pumps. Considering she was alone, she was going to assume that Caitlin had managed to close the gate on time and stopped Wells. And she had passed through to a parallel universe - well, if the gate actually worked and she hadn't, in actuality, lost her mind and was now living in a catatonic, delusional state in some institution back in Central City. She had _crossed_ , something that even Doctor Who and his awesome TARDIS couldn't do without help. And she hadn't even broken her glasses.  
  
Definite fist pumps, if only she could manage them but she could feel her energy - or quite possibly her life - draining out of her as she looked up at the night sky. The moon was full above her, its pale light creating a silhouette of the surrounding buildings. Moving her head slowly side to side, she felt stirrings of familiarity trickling over her. She knew this place.  
  
A small whimper escaped her when her slowly blurring eyesight finally took in the words of the building sign in front of her.  
  
Verdant.  
  
"No," she said weakly as tears began to trickle down her face. "No, not here, please, not here." She was having the worst-ever 'Casablanca' moment: of all the nightclubs in all the towns in all the possible universes, she fell next to this one.  
  
_Please let me pass out,_ she thought. _Please please please, I don't even mind dying. Because I don't want to be here, I don't want to go through it again if it's the same here.  
_  
She could hear herself sobbing, the sound of it loud in her ears, and the rational part of her brain told her to calm down because it probably wasn't a good idea to make so much noise and bring attention to herself, considering she was from _another universe_. But the heartbroken, eternally sad part of her brain told her to cry for as long and as loudly as she wanted, because really this was unfair, it really, _really_ was, and she had only managed to salvage a little piece of her heart, she didn't think she could lose any more of it.  
  
A shadow passed over her, making her abruptly swallow her cries as a pang of fear hit her. Despite her weakened, slightly delirious state, she raised her arms in an attempt to fend off her would-be attacker. The shadow moved across her vision, then stilled as it came to stand next to her. Silently, slowly, it lowered, and her breath hitched in her chest.  
  
She knew this shadow too.  
  
Her crying started again, but this time it was a different kind.  
  
A hand reached out towards her, gloved in green. It hovered above her cheek, but never lowered, never touched her. After a minute it began to tremble, then it curled slowly into a fist.  
She lifted her eyes towards the hooded shadow, desperate to see a face there, almost crying aloud again in frustration when she saw that it was hidden from her. A voice came out from its dark depths, cracked and broken, echoing the pain she could feel in her own chest.  
  
"Felicity?"  
  
She sighed, new fresh tears falling down her face. She thought she would never hear that voice again, never hear her name being said in that way again.  
_  
Oliver_ , she tried to say, but she couldn't say anything anymore. She didn't have the strength.  
  
The cracked, broken voice spoke again. "You're dead," it whispered.  
  
Felicity's eyes closed as the darkness around the edges of her mind became too overwhelming to keep at bay; but just before it took her completely, she had one final thought:  
  
_So are you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your interest guys! I am loving writing this fic because come on, who doesn't love the sweeping-violins-long-looks-once-in-a-lifetime-love drama? 
> 
> I love getting messages, so send them on through.  
> Enjoy this chapter!

_Villains don’t cry. Heroes cry. It is because villains’ hearts are full of what they have gained. Heroes’ hearts are full of what they have lost._  
_-Takashi Matsuoka_  
_‘Cloud of Sparrows’_

* * *

   
"Oliver."

Diggle's low, steady voice broke through Oliver's reverie, rousing him where he sat at the door to one of the cells they kept in the Foundry. He turned his head and found Diggle standing a few feet away. He had changed his clothes so that he was no longer covered in blood. Behind him the operating table had been cleaned and packed away.  
  
"Are you planning on going home tonight?" Diggle asked.  
  
Oliver turned away from him, letting his annoyance at the stupid question roll over him so that he was sure it showed in his body language. He heard Diggle let out a heavy sigh before he came to sit next to him on the floor. For a while the two of them sat there staring into the cell, their eyes locked onto the figure lying unconscious on the bed, still and pale.  
  
Then Diggle spoke. “Ok, let's go through this again. You were coming back to the Foundry and you just found her lying outside Verdant?"

….

  
_The night was still, the moon high and full in the sky. It had been an average night of patrolling: a few skirmishes with street-level thugs and some reconnaissance for their other more long-term missions. Oliver had already sent Sara and Roy home, only asking Diggle to stay a little longer to go through some case files. It was a usual Friday night and there had been no sign anything untoward was going to happen; so when Oliver got within sight of the Foundry that evening, the last thing he expected to happen next was to have his entire world turned upside down._

 _It started with a tingle on the back of his neck. He recognised the sensation like a long-forgotten companion - it was a feeling that he hadn't felt for five years and hadn't even realised he'd been missing until that moment. The tingle spread all over his body, heightening his senses, his nerve endings searching, seeking, trying to find the source of the gravity that pulled at him. He approached the club silently, an arrow nocked in his quiver without him even realising it, his pace measured and slow, waiting for something to happen. The tingling on the back of his neck grew stronger as he got closer to the building entrance, as did a feeling of utter confusion. He knew what was happening and it_ confused _him. This pull towards something...it was an impossible feeling for him to have at that moment, because he had only ever felt this for one person..._

 _And then he saw her body, lying there on the ground outside Verdant, her hair like a golden halo in the moonlight. His steps faltered and for a second he thought that he was hallucinating, that perhaps he had unwittingly been dosed while he was out on patrol with some drug or toxin that made him relive his worst nightmare. A new form of Vertigo? Something else entirely? Shaking his head and trying to clear his suddenly tumbling thoughts, he approached her body with caution, his senses on high alert.  
  
_ No _, he thought to himself,_ please not this _.  
  
Tears had sprung to his eyes by the time he got close enough to make out details: her yellow dress was stained with blood around her midriff and her skin was deathly pale. He felt like he stared down at her for ages, just like that moment all those years ago when he had lost her. He wanted to reach down and take her into his arms, cradle her small body and protect it even though he knew it was too late. At the same time he wanted to turn around and run away as fast as his legs could carry him, fast enough to outrun this ghost, this grief. But his body betrayed him, crouching down towards her, the pull he had always felt for her still unmistakably there, even after so long, even though she was _ dead _.  
_  
_A roar of fury and heartbreak sounded in his head, filling him with a rage that he had long ago thought he let go: who could do something like this, take something that was precious to him, bring it up to the cold harshness of reality, and lay it on his doorstep? Even in death, even in her grave, she hadn't been safe._

 _But then, unbelievably, she stirred, and then she cried, and it was as if the hurricane of sound rushing through his ears was choked to a ringing silence. His hand automatically reached out to her to see if she was real but he stopped himself from touching her, almost afraid.  
_  
_Because she was there in front of him. She was alive. And it made no sense._

....

  
"I don't know what's going on here, Oliver," Diggle finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had grown between them.

"Neither do I," Oliver replied, his throat tight as he tried to keep the myriad of emotions running through him under control. He was a master at compartmentalising, but this - this was too much.  
  
"Oh man. _Oliver_ ,” Diggle said again. Out of the corner of his eye Oliver could see his old friend’s jaw clench up as his face darkened.  
  
"Digg please, you can't...we can't freak out with this."  
  
"I don't know about you, but I'm already way past freaked out," Diggle said. He rubbed his face wearily, rubbing his tired eyes. “And I am running out of logical answers.”  
  
“Did you check the security cameras?”  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And?"  
  
“I played them back. Just one minute there's nothing and the next thing she's there. She didn’t trip the sensors because she didn’t go _through_ the sensors.”  
  
"We'll need to call all our contacts,” Oliver said, his voice flat, trying to look at this as another one of their missions even though he knew that it was an empty hope. “We can see if there have been any signs of a play involving her."  
  
"And if there hasn't been?"  
  
Oliver just gave him a grim look and didn't answer.  
  
"It _is_ her, isn't it?" Diggle said, his voice uncertain, his gaze returning to the prostrate form in the cell. "We'll run a blood sample to check, but it's _her_?"  
  
"Digg," Oliver said, then found he didn't even know what to say to that.  
  
"You saw what I saw," Diggle said. "She has the same birthmark on her left hip. The same scar on her shoulder from when she took a bullet for Sara. The only thing that was different was-"  
  
"The tattoo," Oliver said. He began to rub his thumb and forefinger together as he remembered the tattoo on her chest, right above her heart. An arrowhead.  
  
"Could she be, I don't know. A clone?" Diggle asked. "Or maybe the League got hold of her body and used that Pit on her that Sara and Nyssa talked about?"  
  
"We would have known," Oliver said, his voice sounding hollow in his ears. "We would have known if they went anywhere near her grave."  
  
Diggle let out a dejected sigh, his shoulders slumping. "She's dead, man. We buried her five years ago. So how is she there in that cell right now? How have we spent the past hour saving her life?"  
  
Oliver clenched his jaw tightly, a tumble of thoughts forming in his mind but not a single one making it out of his mouth. Finally the tears that he had been desperately holding back began to flow down his face as he stared at the blonde woman lying two metres away from him, asleep. His hand reached up to his chest, rubbing the space above his thudding heart, remembering the tattoo he had placed there five years ago to honour her. To honour her life. To grieve her death.  
  
His tears fell on his clenched fist above his chest.  
  
He would wait for dawn. He would wait for her to wake up, to give him some answers.  
  
He would wait for her.


	3. Chapter 3

_This is to let you know_  
_that when I'd turned out the lamp_  
_and in the dark I lay_  
_that suddenly piercing loneliness, like a knife,_  
_twisted my heart, for you were such a long long way away._  
  
-Noel Coward

* * *

  
Felicity was wide awake before she opened her eyes. It was something she had trained herself to do over the past five years, a coping mechanism to deal with her dreams. More often than not, even now after so long, her dreams would be filled with him, and whenever she woke, for one aching, yearning second she would believe her dreams were real, and then her heart would break all over again. Over time she had learnt to keep her eyes closed when she woke, give herself a moment to resettle into reality before she opened her eyes and faced a world where he was gone.

This time, however, she felt the stirrings of confusion as her mind replayed the last few things she remembered before she had fallen asleep. No, she hadn't fallen asleep, she had blacked out because...because she'd been shot and she had fallen through a universe-crossing gate.  
  
She gingerly lowered her hand to her stomach and sucked in a breath when her fingers met a t-shirt and then underneath, bandages. Okay, so getting shot hadn't been a dream, so did that mean that falling through the universe-crossing gate hadn't been either? More memories came to her: she had been lying on the ground in front of Verdant and someone had said her name.  
  
Someone in a hood...  
  
She finally opened her eyes, her vision blurry without her glasses, and she could make out a concrete ceiling and the walls of a cell. The sight of them stirred a distant memory in her until she recognised them as one of the cells in the Foundry, though she had never woken up inside one of them. Stretching out the fingers of her right hand, she found her glasses lying next to her side. The corners of her lips tugged upwards: in her crime-fighting past in Starling, she had on more than one occasion woken up in the Foundry after surgery of some kind, and Oliver had always made sure to place her glasses next to her where she could reach them easily.  
  
Slipping her glasses on, the cell came into sharp focus and she could see that, yup, definitely, she was locked inside it.  
Turning her head slowly with the intent to see if she really was inside the Foundry - a Foundry just like the one in her universe - her attention was instead caught by the lone figure sitting on the floor outside her cell, and then her eyes saw nothing else.  
  
"Oliver," she whispered, and her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She felt tears stinging her eyes as she stared at his face, still so familiar even after five years of absence, even though this was another universe, another Oliver. His hair was a little longer, his face more rugged and lined, but his eyes were the same pale blue. They were staring back at her unblinkingly, red-rimmed and shining with unshed tears.  
  
There were a million things she wanted to say, and she could tell that there were a million things he wanted to ask her, but she didn't want to break the silence hanging between them because she felt that if she did, he would disappear and she would wake up, really wake up, and she would be back in her universe where he was dead. They stared at each other for a long time, their gazes unwavering, building a connection between them that mere words could never accomplish. A part of her knew that this was impossible; but most of her felt that this was right, that even in another universe, even if she met a million versions of Oliver, she would always feel him in her soul with just one look.  
  
It could have been a second or an hour later when her physical body reminded her that she, in fact, was alive and not in her version of an afterlife. Her stomach grumbled loudly so she broke her gaze from Oliver's face and sat up carefully, clutching her bandaged stomach as she felt the familiar pull of stitches.  
  
"I'm hungry," she said, and her voice seemed to rouse Oliver into action. He stood up with measured grace and walked over to the table behind him. Picking up a tray with some water and food, he brought it over to the cell. Sliding open the small compartment in the cell door, he passed the tray through.  
  
It took Felicity a couple of seconds to stand up and take the tray from him, setting it down on the floor just next to the cell door before carefully sitting cross-legged in front of it. So he wasn't going to let her out of the cell. Fair enough, she could understand that and if she were in his place she'd probably have made the same decision. There was a time long ago when she would have been offended that he didn't trust her, but she had lived in a world with Lazarus Pits, ARGUS clones, supernatural shape-shifters and numerous other freaky should-only-be-on-TV-and-not-in-real-life stuff. So she couldn't really blame Oliver for being suspicious and careful.  
  
Placing some cheese between two slices of bread she brought it to her mouth, chewing slowly and gathering her thoughts. Oliver came to sit cross-legged in front of her, the food tray and iron cell bars separating them. He had his Arrow stance on, guarded and ready as if for battle, his gaze steady on her face, waiting.  
After she had taken a few bites, settling her growling stomach a little, she put her sandwich down on the tray and then began to talk.  
  
"I passed through a gate," she began, not expecting Oliver to voice his questions. She suspected that in this world, like in her own, it would take him a million years to say what was really on his mind and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life inside the cell. Besides, he didn't need to say anything for her to know what he was thinking, and she knew what it was that he would want to know.  
  
"In my world there's a place called Central City not far from here. There's a place called S.T.A.R Labs where a man named Harrison Wells works. To cut his very long story short, he's crazy but unfortunately not the deluded kind of crazy - you know, the kind of crazy where if he told you he was from a parallel universe you'd make an appointment with a psychiatric hospital or maybe..." She trailed off, realising that she was nervous and already rambling, her hands gesturing wildly in front of her as she spoke. She took a deep breath, lowered her hands to her lap and made an attempt to reorganise her thoughts before speaking again.  
  
"So anyway, Wells was not delusional crazy, just evil-bad guy sort of crazy. He built this huge gate, God knows how, to try and get back to his own universe. My friends and I found out about it and we were trying to shut it down because it was going haywire - and I mean, _apocalypse_ kind of haywire. But then I got shot."  
  
She saw Oliver flinch slightly at that before his intense gaze drifted slowly down to her stomach, making her shift awkwardly and, to her own mortification, making her face grow warm. She was wearing a t-shirt but there was something about the way he looked at her that burned right to her skin.  
Well, it looked like her reaction to this universe’s Oliver was the same. She wasn’t really surprised - she suspected that her attraction to him was probably some sort of parallel universe constant.  
  
She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses unnecessarily. "I fell through the gate and ended up outside where you found me. But I'm guessing Caitlin managed to close the gate because nothing's followed me through. I think. I hope." She made a mental note that if - or hopefully when - Oliver let her out of the cell, she should set up a few searches for any unusual activity anywhere in the world.  
  
"So that's what happened, how I came to be here in your world. Where I'm dead?" She hadn't meant to pop out the question but when she was recalling how she had woken up outside Verdant and seen him standing over her, she had suddenly remembered something he had said before she had blacked out.  
  
_You're dead_ , he'd said.  
  
She looked straight at him and instantly recognised the guarded expression that fell over his face, the one that told her he was either going to be glib, abrupt, or simply walk away.  
"Ok let's start with something easier," she said, pushing aside the food tray so she could shuffle closer to Oliver. His eyes widened as she closed the distance between them and she could see his entire body tensing. She knew that she should be more careful with how she dealt with this situation but it had been five years, _five years_ , since she had seen Oliver living and breathing, sharing the same space with her. She was going to get as close to him as he let her. She hoped the fact that the iron bars of the cell still separating them would reassure him a bit, even though she could easily reach through the gaps between the bars to touch him.  
  
_Easy, Smoak_ , she told herself. _One thing at a time. You're a nerd and parallel universes is something that you can accept. Oliver is not a nerd_.  
  
"How long have I been out?" she asked, keeping her hands firmly clasped in her lap. She watched the muscles in Oliver's jaw clenching before he replied.  
  
"We found you on Friday night. It's about one o'clock in the afternoon, Sunday.”  
  
Felicity took a moment, pretending that she was digesting that piece of information carefully, but really she was simply trying not to start crying at hearing his voice again. His wonderful, soft voice. It was the last thing she had forgotten about him, the thing she had mourned losing the most.  
  
"Ok," she said, taking a deep breath to settle herself, "and what's the date?"  
  
"August 25th 2019."  
  
"Oh," Felicity said, surprised. "That would've been -- I mean, that's two days after I fell through the gate. I fell through the gate on Friday, but, um...in my universe." She shook her head, trying and failing to work her way around that. "Is there a Harrison Wells in this world?"  
  
"There is. He's in Central City but as far as I know, he's not from a parallel universe."  
  
"And a S.T.A.R Labs?"  
  
Oliver nodded. "Caitlin Snow. Cisco Ramon. Barry Allen."  
  
"And is Barry...you know...fast?"  
  
"He is."  
  
"Wow," Felicity said, her fingertips coming up to her lips thoughtfully. It seemed like this universe was quite similar to her own, at least in regards to the way things were in Central City. Her mind wandered, wondering what else in this world was the same as her own. Had this world's version of Felicity been partners with Oliver? Had she been their resident tech genius? Had they fought the same people?  
  
And then her mind wandered further than her questions about herself. Who was on Team Arrow? Had Oliver forged himself on the island over five years? Was he even the Arrow here? Was he still the vigilante? The Hood? Did he fight for the same reasons?  
  
Had this world's version of Felicity loved him? Had he loved her back?  
  
Feeling overwhelmed suddenly, the true reality of her situation finally hitting her, she dropped her head down into her open palms, cradling her head as if the thoughts inside them were too heavy for her. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down, taking a few deep breaths, all the while feeling Oliver's steady, heavy gaze on her. When she opened her eyes again a few minutes later, she realised, for the first time, that she wasn't wearing her own clothes. Her yellow dress and heels were gone, replaced with a pair of black track pants and a black t-shirt. Running her hand over her ears, she was relieved that she still had her numerous earrings on. For some reason that made her feel better. Then with a pang of panic, she reached up to her neck to make sure she still had her locket. With a huge sigh of relief, she felt its familiar weight brush against her fingertips.  
  
"Whose clothes are these?" she asked, lifting her head. At least that question probably had an easy answer.  
  
"Sara's," Oliver said.  
  
Felicity felt her stomach plummet as her mouth went dry. _Ok, not an easy answer at all_.  
  
"Sara?" she croaked. "She's...alive here?"  
  
Oliver's brow furrowed as his eyes darkened. "She's not..." he swallowed and Felicity could see that he was warring internally with himself for a few seconds until he seemed to make a decision and his expression settled. "She's not alive in your world?" he asked.  
  
When Felicity heard him say “in your world” she felt a part of herself relax. She hadn't even realised that she had been scared that Oliver wouldn't believe her story; but she knew, just by looking at him, that he believed her, for now at least.  
  
"She was killed by..." she blanched, realising what she was going to have to tell him. She wondered at the wisdom of telling him the truth, but she quickly decided as a general rule to be completely open about her own world. It was hard enough a story to believe, she didn't want to add lies or half-truths to the pile.  
  
"She was killed by Thea," she said, keeping her voice soft, almost as a way to soften the blow. Oliver's eyebrows rose, mostly with disbelief. "After we defeated Slade - is there a Slade in this world?"  
  
Oliver nodded gravely. "He's imprisoned on Lian Yu. We defeated him after he tried to take down Starling City with a Mirakuru army. That was six years ago."  
  
"Ok, another thing that's the same in mine," Felicity said. "So there's a Slade here, can't say I'm thrilled to hear it. It would have been nice to learn that he wasn't around. Or he was like, someone nice, like a doctor. Or a baker."  
  
She felt Oliver's gaze on her grow heavier, a sure sign that she was rambling and he was noticing. She quickly got herself back on track. "Anyway, after Slade happened Thea disappeared and got caught up in her father's very evil web, who in my world is Malcolm Merlyn. And I can tell by your expression that it's the same here, _man_ she doesn't even get a break in another universe! Anyway, Malcolm drugged her and tricked her into killing Sara. So then of course the League of Assassins and Nyssa went all revenge-crazy and tracked her down, which led to you..." she broke off suddenly, the burn of tears filling her eyes. She had been so caught up with having Oliver in front of her, actually talking to him, that she had momentarily forgotten that he was dead. In her world, he had travelled to Nanda Parbat to fight for his sister and returned to Starling City in a wooden crate for a coffin.  
  
As she always did whenever she thought about Oliver's death, her hand reached up to her chest to touch the tattoo she had gotten there, then moved to the locket around her neck, catching it in a vice-like grip.  
  
"That didn't happen here," Oliver said, bringing her back to the present. He was watching her carefully, no doubt taking in her tearful eyes and noting the fact that she hadn't finished her story. "After Slade, I went to find Thea because..." his expression darkened momentarily, but then he shook his head forcefully. "I found Thea and she came back here to Starling with me. Malcolm's who-knows-where right now, but Sara's here. She lives with Laurel."  
  
"Sara's alive," Felicity whispered, and she found herself loving this world a little bit more.  
  
A beeping sound came from somewhere in the room and Oliver turned his head in the direction of the sound before he stood up. Walking over to one of the computers he looked down at the screen, frowning at what he read there. He pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, then picked up a tablet and carried it back over to the cell.  
  
"Here," he said, passing the tablet to her. "You can't keep that, but you can have a look at this."  
  
Felicity took the tablet from him and looked down at the screen. It showed some results from a blood sample, the words '99.9% POSITIVE MATCH' appearing under a picture of her. She stared at it for a long time, the true implications of her situation slowly dawning on her.  
  
"I guess in this world I'm Felicity Smoak as well," she said, handing the tablet back to him. And because that fact was way, _way_ too freaky to handle, she tried to make light of the situation. "Though I'm a little disappointed that I don't have, like, some sort of freaky DNA. I mean, DNA in this universe is the same as the DNA in mine? It's a little boring. Though there is an argument to be made that life can only come to be in one way, which is...not something you actually want to hear about right now. Sorry." She gave Oliver a sheepish look, who was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite name, and tears in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher.  
  
"This world's Felicity Smoak is dead," he said, his words heavy and flat, settling like stones across her heart. "But you're here," he added, his tear-filled, red-rimmed pale blue eyes searching her face. "And you're...Felicity."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you're enjoying this story. I'm going to attempt to pull your heartstrings a little bit more.

_Tonight I can write the saddest lines._  
_To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her._  
_To hear the immense night, still more immense without her._  
  
_-Pablo Neruda_

* * *

  
Oliver sat in his desk chair in his office at Queen Consolidated, long ago given up at getting any sort of work done. It was Monday morning and the last thing he was capable of doing at the moment, considering his state of mind, was playing the role of CEO. But he had needed to get out of the Foundry, and Diggle had certainly not stopped him when he had walked out of the Foundry bathroom in his business suit. The man had simply nodded his hand and said "I'll keep watch."

He had told Mary his EA to clear his schedule for the day and so he had sat still and silent at his desk for most of the morning trying to gather his thoughts, the semblance of normality around him doing a little, but not much, to settle him. His gaze flickered once again to his laptop screen that showed the live-feed coming from the camera he had placed in the Foundry. He didn't want to acknowledge just how much of the morning he had spent staring at the screen, staring at someone in particular, a heavy weight deep in his chest.

It couldn't be real, he kept telling himself. It couldn't be real because he had spent every day for the past five years wishing that he could have her back in his life, and it just couldn't be that his wish had been granted. He had used up all his luck a long time ago.

For about the hundredth time that day, he replayed the previous day's conversation in his head - not so much the content but more the sounds, the movements, the sensations. Everything about her was the same - her voice, her rambling, her bright purple nail-polished fingernails catching his attention as she spoke with her hands. Her hair, her face, her blue eyes staring levelly at him, seeing into him. Even her scent, the one that he could never remember, no matter how hard he tried.  
  
God, he had missed her.

Letting out a huge sigh, he rubbed his face wearily, glancing at the clock on his wall and realising he had skipped lunch, not that he felt much like eating. Finally making a decision, he picked up his phone and sent a text.

_Could you come over? As soon as you can. I'm at QC._

A few seconds later a reply came.

_Why? Anything wrong?_

Oliver tapped out a reply. _Just come when you can. Please._

He put his phone down, rubbing his face again. A minute later his desk phone rang, the light indicating that it was coming from Mary's desk.

"Yes?"

"Mr Queen, there's a Barry Allen here to see you. He's insisting that you told him to come over? I tried to tell him that you're busy today-"

"No it's fine Mary," he said, interrupting her apology. "Let him come in."

Oliver put down the phone, sitting up straighter in his chair. Years ago he would have seen Barry as soon as he rounded the corner from the elevator; but he had replaced the glass walls in the office long ago, when the sight of the EA desk had been too much to bear.

The door to his office opened and Barry entered, his cheerful face breaking into a smile.

"Hey Oliver," he said.

"That was fast," Oliver said.

"Oh my god, was that a joke?" Barry said, coming over and sitting on the chair opposite Oliver's desk. "Now I know something's really wrong." He held up his phone. "Besides, you said 'please'. That really freaked me out."

Oliver leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on his desk, this thumb and forefinger rubbing together nervously. "What do you know about parallel universes?" he said without preamble.

Barry gave him a surprised look, which slowly morphed into a worried look as he stared at Oliver uncertainly; but years of working together, and hundreds of moments where they could have died together, made him swallow his questions and answer seriously.

"It's complicated," he started off saying. "Scientists still debate whether it's a valid theory or not. And there are different ways of thinking about the theory, different levels." He looked at Oliver carefully. "What is it you want to know about it?"

"Is it possible? Is it possible that there are universes out there where things are...different but the same as well?”

"It's possible, yeah. But provable? I don't know. There's a lot of sci-fi out there that plays with the idea of alternate universes." He paused for a bit, then gave Oliver a curious look. "Oliver, what's this about?"

Deciding that it would be easier to show him, Oliver slid his laptop around and showed Barry the screen. "That's a live-feed from the Foundry," he said.

Barry quirked an eyebrow as he glanced quickly at the screen. "What, you're spying on the Foundry now? Wow, that's douchebaggy even for you." He leaned over, his brow furrowing as he stared more closely at the screen. "Wait, is that...Felicity?"

Oliver felt his breath hitch like it usually did whenever he heard her name. "I found her outside the Foundry on Friday night. She was lying on the ground with a bullet in her stomach. Digg and I patched her up and put her in the cell. She woke up yesterday afternoon and she told me that she's from a parallel universe." He saw Barry's eyebrows rise in surprise, but the young man's eyes never left the screen.

"She said in her world Harrison Wells built a gate to cross universes," he continued. "She and her friends - you, actually, and Caitlin - were trying to shut down the gate. But she was shot and fell through."

Barry leaned back in his chair, his eyes finally lifting from the screen. His face was filled with incredulity, but also with wonder. Oliver wondered how he was taking this so well, then remembered why he had reached out to him in the first place - Barry was smart and a geek, just like Felicity. This sort of stuff wasn't outside his realm of thinking.

"Another Felicity," Barry said. "Wait, does she know that she...I mean, this world's Felicity, is dead?"

"She knows, but I didn't give her details."

Barry nodded thoughtfully. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"Enough to let me know that her world is similar to ours. There's a Central City in her world and a S.T.A.R Labs. There's you and you're the Flash, or at least you've got your powers. She fought Slade. But some things are different. Sara's dead in her world, for one.”

Barry's mouth dropped. "Sara _died_?"

"Thea killed her."

"Whoa. That's something I never imagined would happen in any universe."

"She mentioned something about Malcolm drugging her and tricking her into doing it."

"Oh, ok that makes a little more sense."

Oliver leaned back in his chair. "I also think I'm dead in her universe."

Barry's eyes widened. "Did she tell you that?"

"No," Oliver said. "But I could tell." He didn't want to tell Barry about the tattoo he had seen on Felicity's chest, nor the tears she had shed when she had seen him, mirroring his own. He didn’t want to tell him about the look of pure happiness that had crossed her face when he had said her name after finding her lying on the ground outside Verdant. In that moment he had thought he had died somehow, and he had been all right with that because she was there smiling at him.

Barry leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow on the chair armrest, his gaze thoughtful. "I mean, it _is_ possible that she crossed from a parallel world, and I'd bet in every eight out of ten universes Doctor Wells is a super genius. Did you take a blood sample?"

"It's a match. She's a match."

"And there's no other possible explanation? I mean I'm thinking clone or I don't know, didn't Sara once talk about some sort of resurrecting waters where she stayed with the League?"

"That's what I wanted your help with. Maybe there's something you can find out or something S.T.A.R Labs can do. I know we're going to have to check her grave but none of us want that job. Besides, I'm sure Cisco could figure out a way to do it without having to..."

Barry nodded. "Yeah, sure, of course we'll think of something," he said quickly. His eyes flickered back to the screen, his face losing the ever-present cheerfulness that Oliver was so used to seeing.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

Oliver hesitated, then shook his head. "Not now. At least not until I know what her intentions are, if she has any."

Barry looked like he was going to argue, but then instead just nodded his head. "Do you trust her?"

Oliver didn't know how to answer that. A part of him, the logical part, knew that he needed to get all the facts and evidence in place before he trusted the woman in the Foundry cell. But the rest of him, the part that consisted of his gut instinct and his heart, knew that he already did.

Barry gave him a small, knowing smile. "Yeah, of course. Because Felicity Smoak is Felicity Smoak, no matter what universe she's in." He got up from his chair to leave, throwing one more thoughtful glance at the computer screen before he walked away. At the doorway he paused and turned back, an earnest expression on his face.

"You look after her, Oliver."

\----

 

Felicity woke up on her cot in the Foundry cell, rubbing her eyes wearily. Sitting up carefully she swung her legs down to the floor then stood up, padding around the cell in her bare feet in an attempt to wake herself up. Oliver had given her some of Diggle's magical pain relief pills, which thankfully had made her sleep a lot because if she had been awake she would have probably been bored to death. Or desperately needed to go to the bathroom, which come to think of it, was exactly what she needed to do. It had been three days, she was surprised she hadn't needed to go until that moment. She looked dubiously around the cell, wondering if Oliver and Diggle honestly expected her to pee in a bucket or something. But there was nothing in the cell except for the bed, and there was nobody around for her to ask if she could go to the bathroom; so instead she willed herself to think about something else.

Walking up to the cell door she leaned her forehead against one of the metal bars, her eyes idly wandering around the room cataloguing everything inside it: the surgery, the weapons, the salmon ladder and training equipment, the Arrow suit in the glass case. This version of the Foundry looked much like the one she had left behind in Starling City, except this one had a large table in the far corner with eight chairs around it. The sight of it made her quirk her eyebrows - it looked like Team Arrow was an expanded version here. She wondered who was in the team and wondered if she would be seeing any of them. If today was Monday it meant that two nights had passed without any Arrow action since she had gotten there. Perhaps Oliver had told everyone to avoid the Foundry for a while. She wondered if he had told them about her. 

Finally her eyes fell to the computer station. It looked like the same one she had set up in her Foundry eight years ago. She wondered who manned it now that this world's Felicity was dead. Back in her own universe she had given up her mantle to Barbara Gordon when she had decided to move to Central City. She wondered at the possibility that this world had a Barbara Gordon too, and then felt her head begin to spin.

A noise caught her attention and she realised that someone was coming down the stairs. Diggle appeared, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. He halted for a second when he saw her standing at the cell door; but then he seemed to gather himself and walked over to her.

“Hi,” she said softly, eyeing his approach. “I hate to say this, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

He stopped abruptly, looking suddenly unsure.

“I know that must break some sort of rule thing you’ve got going on with Oliver,” she said, “but if I promise not to ninja-attack you, could you let me out? You can even handcuff me.”

Diggle raised an eyebrow. “Ninja-attack?”

“Well you never know,” she said, “I could be awesome at that stuff now. Highly unlikely, I mean _really_ unlikely because if you’re suspicious about me being able to ninja-attack you you’re probably not going to let me go to the bathroom, are you?” She gave him a pleading look. “Please?”

He let out a huge sigh, pulled out some keys from his pocket and went over to the cell door. “I’ll have to take you there,” he said, “and stand by the door until you come out.”

“I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be back in this cell before you know it.”

He unlocked the door and Felicity slowly stepped out, trying her best not to make any sudden movements. The last thing she would try to do was escape the Foundry, because even if she wanted to escape - which she didn’t - she was more than aware that anyone who could have helped her thought she was dead. She let Diggle take her elbow and silently let him lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. Quickly doing her business and washing her hands, avoiding looking at her reflection in the mirror because _gross_ , she hadn’t washed her hair in days, she followed Diggle back into the cell where he proceeded to lock her back in.

“Thanks,” he said to her quietly.

“For what?”

“For not making me regret that.”

She gave him a small smile. “That’s ok. Thanks for not making me, you know, pee in the corner.” That, to her pleasant surprise, earned her a small chuckle. He walked over to a nearby table and picked up a paper bag.

"Here," he said, passing her the bag through the cell bars. "I figured you'd be hungry when you woke up."

"Thanks," she said, sitting down on her bed and pulling out the sandwich. "What time is it?"

"About two in the afternoon," he said. "Oliver's at work."

"Oh," she said. "What does he do?"

Diggle gave her a confused look. "He's CEO of QC."

Felicity's eyebrows rose in surprise. "He didn't lose the company?"

"No, he and Thea managed to get it back about seven months after Slade's army attacked Starling."

"Huh," Felicity said, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "That's great. It did not work out like that in my universe."

Diggle shifted uneasily on his feet before he grabbed a chair then sat down in front of the cell, a determined look on his face. Felicity swallowed nervously. She knew that face. It was Diggle's interrogation face.

"Oliver mentioned that you told him you're from another universe."

She nodded her head. "Don't tell me, it's hard to believe, right?"

"I've seen a lot of crazy things over the past few years." He gave her a long look. "But seeing you, it's like you're back from the dead."

"But I'm not. The Felicity in _this_ world is dead. I'm _another_ Felicity. I'm parallel-Felicity, not zombie-Felicity."

The corner of Digg's mouth tilted upwards. "That's something she would have said." His eyes turned suddenly bright. "You're so much like how I remember her."

She smiled a little sadly, the look on his face squeezing her chest. "I'm sorry that's made you sad, Digg."

He shook his head, giving her a small smile. "Talking to you again doesn't make me sad." Rubbing his eyes, he took a deep breath and seemed to gather himself. "All right. What's your name?"

Felicity swallowed heavily, aware that Digg was testing her now, in his own way.

"Felicity Meghan Smoak."

"Birthdate?"

"October 19th 1989."

"Parents?"

"My mom is Donna Smoak. She lives in Vegas where I grew up. She's a cocktail waitress. My dad is don't know, don't care."

"Religion?"

"Jewish. During the holidays, anyway."

“How did you meet me?”

“You were Oliver’s driver and bodyguard. I met you properly, though, about eight years ago, when I came here one evening asking you to help me lift Oliver out of my car. He’d been shot by his mom when he had questioned her as the Vigilante. You pulled a gun on me.”

By the look on his face, Felicity could surmise that her story was familiar to him. She put aside her food and looked at him earnestly.

"Digg," she said softly, "you can ask me all the questions you want, but that won't change the fact that I'm not her. Not your Felicity."

He swallowed heavily then shook his head. ”I know. But just because I _know_ that, it doesn't change the fact that you're still...Felicity. A version of her. And Felicity Smoak was my friend."

She felt tears pricking her eyes. "John Diggle has always been my friend," she said. She gave him a small smile. "In my world you've known me longer. I mean, because I'm not dead. You still look out for me, even though I don't live in Starling anymore."

"You moved?"

"Yeah, I needed a change. Things got...difficult for me here. I went to Central City and I work with Barry. You stayed here, still fighting and protecting the city with Roy and Laurel."

"Laurel?"

"Oh yeah, that might be different here. Oh god, this could get complicated."

"It isn't already?"

She smiled at that. "In this world are you married to Lyla?"

"Yeah."

"And you have a daughter?"

"Yeah."

"You named her Sara."

Diggle looked at her, his eyes sad. "I named her Felicity."


	5. Chapter 5

_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.  
\- Helen Keller _

* * *

 

 

Oliver found Felicity lying on her bed when he entered the Foundry after work, Diggle on the training mat bruising a punching bag, the sounds of his workout echoing around the room. Diggle stopped when he saw Oliver approach, taking a moment to adjust his gloves.

“How is she?” Oliver asked, keeping his voice low.

“She looks like she’s healing well,” Diggle said, briefly glancing over at the cell. “She’s bored out of her mind though. And I had to take her to the bathroom earlier, and obviously she didn’t make a run for it.”

Oliver felt his gaze unerringly settle onto Felicity’s prone form. “Did you think that she would?”

“Not really, no,” Diggle said. “But it was nice to be proven right.” His nostrils flared as he breathed deeply. “Is that Big Belly?” he said, pointing at the bag Oliver was carrying.

“Dinner,” Oliver said, pulling out a paper bag and handing it to Diggle.

“Thanks. Did you get something for Felicity?”

“Of course I did.”

The corners of Diggle’s mouth lifted slightly. “Of course you did.”

Oliver recognised the amused look on Diggle's face, and decided to ignore it. "Have you talked to her at all?"

"I asked her some questions. Things about her, about how we met. It's all the same." He shrugged, though the action was a little forced. "It's weird and not weird."

"I know exactly what you mean," Oliver agreed, his face grim. “I talked to Barry this afternoon.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him about her and asked him whether he thought this whole situation is possible. He seems to think it is.”

“He didn’t want to come and see her?”

“Of course he did. But I said he couldn’t. Not right now.”

Diggle gave him a look, almost disapproving, but then he seemed to relent a little. "Oliver, you're going to let her out of that cell, aren't you? She can't stay in there forever."

"I know she can't."

"And we're going to have to figure out a way to make it look like she hasn't just come back from the dead because she’s going to need to leave the Foundry sooner or later." He paused. "Or we're going to have to figure out how to get her back to her own world, if she wants that."

Oliver looked at him sharply, his stomach twisting and his hands clenching. Diggle took in his reaction and gave him a knowing look.

"Her life, her choice," Diggle said quietly. "Isn't that what she used to say? We have to remember that the Felicity lying in that cell doesn't belong here with us." He reached over and squeezed Oliver's shoulder gently. "Not if she doesn't want to stay."

Oliver felt his body grow heavy at the thought that he'd have to let Felicity go. Again. Could he do that? Now that he had gotten her back, could he let her leave? The years after her death had been filled with so much regret, at the decisions he had made, at the things he had never said.

"I never got to say goodbye to her," he said, surprising himself when he realised that he'd said that aloud.

"You can do it this time," Diggle said, his voice gentle. "If it comes to that."

They stood in silence for a while, Oliver getting lost in his thoughts. Such a large part of him recoiled at going through losing Felicity again; but a small part of him, the part that loved her the most, only wanted her to be happy.

And if that meant helping her return to her world…

Diggle broke through his thoughts, gesturing to the bag that Oliver was carrying and nodding towards the cell. “Go and give her some food. She needs to eat.”

As Diggle resumed his workout Oliver made his way over to the cell, gathering himself in a way similar to how he changed from Oliver Queen to the Arrow. He hated approaching her like this, like she was some battle that he was about to face, but the alternative was opening up the cell door and reaching for her.

And he was not ready for such things yet.

When he got close, Felicity stirred then sat up surprisingly swiftly in her bed.

“Oh my god, is that Big Belly I smell?” she asked. “Is this the torture part where you eat a burger in front of me while you make me eat another sandwich?”

Wordlessly Oliver took another paper bag out of the carry bag he was holding and passed it through to Felicity, the corners of his mouth twitching at what she'd said despite how unsure he still was of her. She eagerly took it from him and promptly sat herself down on the floor. Hesitating only a moment he sat in front of her and pulled out his own bag.

“Oh yum you got me my favourite!” she said, pulling out her food and inspecting them closely. “And you did extra pickles!”

He felt a tug in his chest when he realised that he had gotten Felicity’s usual order without even noticing. He didn’t know how to take the fact that this Felicity liked her burger the same way. Strangely enough, out of everything that had happened over the past few days, it was this that confused him the most. She was so much the same, but he knew she was a different person - but did that even make any difference to him anymore?

They ate in silence for a while, Felicity eating her burger and fries like she hadn’t eaten anything for hours - which, he figured, she probably hadn’t. He remembered that she was a chronic snacker and he felt a little bad for keeping her inside the cell, making a mental note to buy her a stash of candy and cookies. When she finished eating she tidied up her rubbish and picked up her milkshake, giving him a small smile as she took a sip from the straw.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said.

He nodded his head and finished off the rest of his meal while she watched him. He wondered what she was thinking and tried to see himself through her eyes: sitting cross-legged on the floor in a two thousand dollar suit, eating takeout. He wondered, for the first time, if he was anything like the Oliver from her world.

When he had finished his meal and tidied up, she cleared her throat. Almost imperceptibly he tensed, readying himself for whatever she was going to say.

“Oliver, can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice intentionally even, his eyes on the floor.

“Are you ever going to let me out of this cell?” she asked him softly.

He raised his head and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know,” he answered.

“Is it because you don’t trust me?”

He shook his head. “No, it's not that.”

“Is it because you think I’ll try and escape?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

He stared at her for a while, thinking seriously about her question. He was so caught up trying to think about the answer that it took him a while to realise that she had made him stop and _think_. She had been the only person in the world who could do that - make him pause, reflect on his actions, make him explain to her what he was doing. She had always known how to get through to him, had always gotten the truth about what he was thinking and feeling, not because she coerced it out of him, but rather because when she had looked at him like the way she was looking at him now - so openly, so sincerely - he wanted to give her nothing but what was really in his heart.

“I’m scared,” he answered truthfully.

“Of me?” she said in a small voice.

He shook his head, returning his gaze to the floor.

_I’m scared that if I let you out, you’ll become real. And then I’ll have you back in my life and I’ll want to keep you there. And one day I’ll lose you again because you never belonged to me in the first place._

“I’m not scared of you, Felicity,” was all he ended up saying.

….

 

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs broke the silence that had fallen between Felicity and Oliver. She had been staring at him for a while now, taking in his bowed head and his sagging shoulders, wanting so much to reach for him. She was desperate to tell him to talk to her, to let her in, but she knew it wasn't the way.

He had admitted to her that he was scared, and for now that had to be enough.

As the footsteps sounded closer, she watched as Oliver started, like his thoughts had been a million miles away. He stood and moved quickly towards the stairs to meet whoever was coming.

She saw two pairs of boots, one red, one black.

She saw Roy first, and then behind him-

She gasped.

Sara.

She could hear Oliver murmuring to them, stopping them at the base of the stairs before they could step into the main room. She watched their faces behind their masks, their curiosity at Oliver’s grave manner slowly replaced by confusion and then disbelief. Roy’s exclamation was the first thing to break the quiet.

" _What?!_ "

Oliver made an attempt to stop Roy passing, but then he seemed to think better of it and let him go. Felicity watched Roy approaching the cell as he ripped his mask off his face and swept his hood down, his eyes growing wider as he got closer. He looked much the same to her, except he had a long scar running down the side of his face from his temple to his jaw.

"Hey Blondie," he whispered, coming right up to the bars. "It's been a long time."

"Hey Roy," she said, and her heart swelled at the expression on his face. In her world she had seen him only a week before when he had come to visit her in Central City, his wry face filled with happiness at seeing her.

This Roy gazing down at her just looked so...sad.

She reached out and brushed the scar on his cheek, making him flinch slightly. She gave him a small smile. "I like the scar. That’s one for the ladies, right?”

He seemed to hesitate, but then his face broke into the grin she knew so well. “Well you know, chicks dig scars.”

Her eyes flicked past him to Oliver, who was standing just a few feet away watching her and Roy closely. "Did Oliver fill you in, then?"

"Yeah, something crazy about alternate universes and you being from another world." He shrugged, a gesture so familiar to her that it made her smile. "I don't really care about any of that stuff."

"So you're not going to do any freaking out about this?"

"Nah, I'll leave that to the old guys. They like to make things complicated." He grinned again, then his face sobered slightly as he seemed to take her in. "It's just good to see your face again."

"Hey Felicity," Sara said softly, coming to stand beside Roy.

"Sara," Felicity said, her voice breaking a little. Impulsively she reached her hand out through the cell bars and Sara's hand met hers halfway.

"I missed you," she said.

Tears sprang in Sara's eyes. "I missed you too.”

Felicity studied Sara’s face, remembering the last time she had seen it, how still and young it had looked. This Sara was older, with laugh lines around her eyes and a lightness that she had not seen before.

“You’ve grown up,” she said.

Sara smiled and gave Felicity’s hand a squeeze. “So have you.”

“So Blondie, we have a lot of catching up to do,” Roy said, reaching out and taking Felicity’s other hand. “Is Oliver going to keep you in this cell forever then?”

Felicity gave him a rueful smile. “I think that’s his plan. You know what he’s like.”

Roy quirked his eyebrows at her then turned to look at Sara. “Do you know where he keeps the keys?”

“Digg has a set in his pocket,” Felicity supplied.

Roy flashed her a grin. “Still a know-it-all,” he said. “Come on, Canary. I’ll distract Digg, you find the keys.”

But before making his way to Diggle, Roy reached up to cup one side of Felicity's face as Sara did the same to her other. They both looked at her for a long time, tears shining in their eyes, expressions of muted wonder and joy on their faces. Felicity let out a laugh, a teary, blubbering laugh, and pressed her hands on top of theirs.

“My heroes,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments on chapter 4, everyone! I would reply to them all individually but most of them were all along the lines of YOU KILLED ME, DIGG'S DAUGHTER IS NAMED FELICITY URRGGLLLLL THE FEELS THE FEELS! Which made me smile.  
> So to you all, thank you for taking the time to message me, I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll post the next one soon.


	6. Chapter 6

_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation._

_-Khalil Gibran_

* * *

 

 

Standing by the cell door, her hands clenched around the bars, Felicity struggled with the feeling of indecision coursing through her. Diggle, Roy and Sara had left a few minutes ago to go on patrol, Roy and Sara throwing her small, knowing smiles as they had walked past. They had managed to steal the keys off Diggle and had unlocked the cell door before they left, leaving Felicity with her freedom literally in her hands.

She had been in the cell for three days and a large part of her yearned to see something else that didn't involve the cement walls of the Foundry. She could open this cell door and walk right out, feel the night air, see the sky.

But she didn't. All she did was stand there in the cell, hesitating. A few metres away in front of her Oliver leaned against the table, watching her with his unrelenting, steady gaze. Her eyes were on him, his eyes were on her.

"You can, you know," he said quietly.

"I can what?" she asked.

"Open the door," he said. "I know that Roy opened it."

Of course he did. Things rarely got past him.

"I don't know if I should," she said, her voice uncertain.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know yet if you want me to."

Oliver gave her a long look, his arms crossed over his chest. He was half-dressed in his Arrow gear, but he only had a black t-shirt on, leaving his arms bare. Felicity took in his lean forearms, tense across his chest almost like he was holding himself back; but slowly, as if he were still coming to a decision as he moved, he straightened, walked over and stood in front of her.

“Felicity?” he said, looking down at her then, his blue eyes unwavering. There was a mere few inches between them, just the width of the cell bars separating them. She felt the surrounding air constricting, enveloping them inside a space where only the two of them existed.

“Yes?” she said, her voice quiet and soft.

"Would you tell me something?"

She blinked at him, then nodded her head.

“In your world,” he said, “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

She hesitated for a second, then remembered what she had decided, that she would answer any questions asked of her truthfully. She nodded her head.

“Yes. In my universe you're dead.”

“How did it happen?”

She swallowed heavily, her hand reaching up to her chest, her fingers clasping her locket.

….

 

_Felicity stood next to Diggle in the middle of an abandoned building near the Foundry, her small hand clasped in his. For once his presence was doing nothing to calm her, because she could feel his tension in the slightly-too-tight way he was holding her hand, and in the way he was carefully avoiding her gaze._

_They had received the letter three days ago, a short note sent from somewhere she hadn't been able to track down._

To Felicity Smoak and John Diggle.   
Please meet me at 14 Orion Street, ground floor, this Friday at noon. You must come alone, as will I. I have news of Oliver.   
T. Yamashiro

_It had been the first real news they had gotten about Oliver since he had left to fight Ra's al Ghul, and the three days of waiting until the meeting had almost sent Felicity into a frenzy. She had searched every database she could think of for a T. Yamashiro but her searches had turned up nothing. Whoever it was, man or woman, he or she was very good at hiding._

_So armed with no intel and no idea what was waiting for them, with only the short letter in Felicity's hand and a firearm in Diggle's waistband, they had made their way to the designated meeting place, a desperate sort of hope in their hearts._

_Inside the cold, damp building, they stood there and waited, the both of them probably thinking the same thing: this was a trap and it had been a bad, very very bad, idea to come alone. Somewhere nearby Felicity could hear a slow dripping sound and a scratching scurrying that reminded her rather uncomfortably of rats; in the distance the rumble of the outside traffic reminded her that the world was passing along quite obliviously without them. But that was all that she could hear, despite her ears straining desperately for any noise that might indicate an ambush or attack._

_She looked at her phone and saw that it was two minutes to noon. She shuffled closer to Diggle and waited._

_11:59...12:00_

_She was like a whisper, the woman who emerged out of the shadows without warning, silent and small, a shadow herself. Dressed in clothes that made Felicity think of cold, faraway mountains, she moved with grace and cautiousness, reminding Felicity of Sara. The woman approached them carefully but without fear, her gaze unflinching as she came to a stop in front of them._

_"I am Tatsu Yamashiro," she said, her English halting but clear. "I knew Oliver during his time in Hong Kong."_

_There was something about the woman, something fearless but also gentle, that made Felicity instantly trust her. In the back of her mind she felt glad that during Oliver's five years away, he had at least had the fortune to meet someone like her._

_She gave Tatsu a small smile. "I'm Felicity. This is John. I'm sorry we don't know anything about you, but Oliver doesn't really like to talk about his past much."_

_"With good reason," Tatsu said. Her gaze swept up to Diggle, gave him a quick, assessing look, then came back to Felicity, where it rested. "I have come to tell you of Oliver's fate," she said in her quiet voice. "Of the consequences of his duel with Ra's al Ghul."_

_Felicity gripped Diggle's hand tighter. "Please, do you know where he is? Is he all right?"_

_Something flickered across the woman's face, a fleeting unguarded expression that made Felicity's heart race. A horrible roaring sound began to build in her ears._

_"Ra's al Ghul defeated him," Tatsu said, her voice gentle, her brown eyes sorry. "He was brought to me fighting for his life after he fell from a cliff. His wound was deep. I am sorry, I could not save him."_

_Even as her words were struggling to find some sort of purchase in Felicity's brain, Tatsu gestured behind her and Felicity's tear-filled eyes fell on a long wooden crate a few metres away. A cry escaped her and she tried to pull her hand away from Diggle's grasp so she could run over to the box; but Diggle held her fast, making her look up at him._

_"Felicity," he said, his voice breaking, his face drawn. "Wait. We'll go together."_

_And so the two of them slowly walked over to the wooden crate, Tatsu's silent presence behind them. To Felicity it was as if time warped, where it seemed like she had been walking forever and she would never make it to the crate, only to find herself standing right next to it too soon. She and Diggle stood there silently side by side for a few heartbeats, trying to delay the moment when everything changed for them; but then it was Diggle who finally let her hand go as he reached out to pull the lid open._

_There he lay in a bed of flower petals and melting snow, his naked torso pale in the dim light, his scars vivid white, a deep wound below his ribcage._

_Felicity stared down at him, for once her relentlessly working mind quiet and still. She had known for a long time that this moment would come for her, that one day she would look down at Oliver's lifeless body and find everything that made him seem so invincible - his strength, his passion, his determination - all gone. She had known it in a rational, logical way, but she had not been prepared._

_"Oliver," she whispered, and she reached out to touch his face, stroke her fingers across his cold cheeks and his cold lips, remembering the last time she had felt them was when he had kissed her on her forehead before he had left._

_"Diggle," she said, her voice sounding hollow to her ears, "please tell me that this isn't happening."_

_But she only felt Diggle's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and she knew that no, this was not something she was going to wake up from._

_"He gained consciousness only once before he succumbed to a fever," Felicity heard Tatsu saying. "When he was lucid, he told me of you, Felicity, of how his last thought before the fall, was of you."_

_Although Felicity could hear Tatsu's words, they sounded so faraway to her that she couldn't really understand them at that moment. For her there was nothing but the feeling of Oliver's cold skin beneath her fingertips and the stillness of his body before her._

_There were no tears streaming down her cheeks. The tears would come later. For now there was only a heavy silence - a silence that was filled with her loss and her unspeakable love._

_She had known this moment would come for her, but she had been unprepared._

_She wasn't ready. She would never be ready._

....

 

"Felicity."

Oliver's voice brought Felicity back from the past. Although she had tried to keep the explanation of his death as succinct as possible, it had not made it any easier for her to recount.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, wiping away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. "It's never...not hurt me, you know?"

Oliver gave her a look, one that told her he knew exactly what she meant.

"So you met Tatsu?" he said, his voice soft.

She nodded. “She said she brought you back home to honour what you did for her son. She was nice. I really liked her, despite the circumstances."

"So what did you do with...after?"

“We put up a gravestone next to your parents' ones but we scattered your ashes to the wind. We thought, after everything you went through, you’d want to be free.” Her hand reached up to her chest. “I got a tattoo shortly after, even though I hate needles. An arrow. It was to remind myself.”

“Of what?” he asked, his voice tight.

Felicity looked at him. “Of you. Of…regret.”

"Regret," he whispered, echoing her, his eyes searching her face.

His hand went up to his own chest, touching it with his fingertips, mirroring her movements. Then slowly, deliberately, his hands reached out and covered her own, his fingers curling over hers gripping the cell bars. His strong, calloused hands grasped hers gently, and a warmth began to radiate over her body, starting from her fingers.

He pulled at the exact moment she pushed.

The door opened between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and for all the love and for all the sharing you've done with this story. 
> 
> I swear I will write happy chapters soon.


	7. Chapter 7

_Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns_  
_it calls me on and on across the universe._  
-John Lennon

* * *

 

 

For Oliver, it was like stepping into the sunlight.

....

 

_He stood at Felicity’s computer workstation, staring blindly at the blank screens. It was six o’clock in the morning, Saturday, two days after her funeral. He had just spent the night beating up low-lifes and thugs, his mind not quite in the game for anything more strategic or planned. Diggle had left an hour ago after stitching up a knife wound on Oliver’s upper arm, his unspoken disapproval thick in the air around him. But Oliver hadn’t cared. He had made it through another night and that was a victory in itself._

_Now he stood in front of her computers, his hands on the back of her empty chair, the silence of the Foundry around him. On the table was a small brown envelope addressed to him. He had received it the afternoon before at Verdant, the familiar writing on the front making his stomach plummet to the ground. He knew what it was._

_With hands that weren’t quite steady, he reached over and picked up the envelope, ripping the tab open slowly, then pulling out the small card inside. On it was written a long series of numbers and letters. He stared at it for a long time, taking in long, steady breaths. Then turning on the computers in front of him, he waited until the log-in screen came up, then typed in the code._

_A series of folders sprang up onto the desktop, clearly labelled and organised. Felicity’s contingency plan, bringing up all the files that she had deemed important for the Arrow team to have in order to continue on without her. He methodically went through each file, taking note of what was inside of each one, feeling a sense of pride at her efficiency and thoroughness despite the heavy ache inside him._

_The last folder he opened was one simply labelled Photos. At first he had thought they were reconnaissance photos stored for their ongoing missions; instead he found a collection of the few photos that Felicity had taken of them over the past two years. None of them were particularly important, just candid shots of those moments when their lives had resembled something normal. There was one of him, Diggle and Roy standing outside a cafe while they waited for Felicity to get some coffee she desperately needed. Another of Diggle and Lyla in front of their new house. One of Oliver in the cockpit of a plane. One of Roy and Sara pulling funny faces across a booth at Big Belly._

_And there was one of him and Felicity, sitting side by side at her desk at QC. Thea had come in to tell them about the latest romance that the paparazzi had cooked up involving Oliver Queen and his blonde secretary. Felicity had brought up the article and had laughed aloud for a full minute, mostly at all the awful puns._

_Oliver remembered that moment well: her laugh had tinkled through the air around him, her whole face lit up with humour and the sunlight beaming in through the glass windows. He remembered looking down at her with almost wonder, his mouth stretching out into a rare grin. It was like the first time he met her in her office on that morning so long ago. That had been the moment that had set him on a different path - a path that strove for the light instead of delving deeper into the dark. There was just something about her - perhaps her bright clothes, her babbling, her gestures, her openness - he didn't really know; all he knew was that when he looked at Felicity, he knew what it felt like to want something...more._

_Thea must have sneakily taken the photo of them. She had never shown it to him, and he could see why. The way the sunlight made Felicity glow, the way he smiled down at her, the look in his eyes. Thea knew that he ran away from all good things and she wouldn’t have wanted him to run away from what the photo revealed._

_Shutting down the computer with abrupt movements, Oliver brusquely picked up the envelope with the code inside and ran it through the shredder. Pulling up his grey hoodie, he sprinted up the stairs and locked the Foundry behind him, shutting the door with a loud bang._

_He then ran outside into the morning air, his heart pounding, his eyes burning, his feet hitting the ground quickly, but not quickly enough._

_The birds were singing. The sun was shining. But he didn't notice at all._

….

 

As Felicity stared up at him in the open doorway of the cell, her face so close to his, he remembered.

He had forgotten how much she reminded him of the sun - how bright she made everything seem, how warm she made him feel inside. He was always so aware of her presence whenever they were in a room together, and he could no more deny the pull towards her than he could deny gravity. He had forgotten that feeling, or rather had lived with the absence of it, a huge empty loss in his chest as proof for him that she had ever existed.

He hadn't meant to touch her, but to deny himself the impulse was like trying to hold back the waters after opening the floodgates. His hands came up to gently touch her wherever his gaze fell as he stared down at her. His fingers brushed through her hair, still blonde but a little shorter than he remembered it. His fingers trailed across her forehead, taking note of the small scar along her hairline and a faint one on her left temple. His knuckles grazed along her cheekbones, down along her jawline, until his palms opened and he cupped her face in his hands.

"Felicity," he said softly, staring into her eyes. She was so much like how he remembered her, but still he gazed down at her intensely, memorising all the old details that had faded in his memory, and all the new details he yearned to learn about: the scars on her hairline and temple, the new piercing in her ear, the laugh lines around her mouth, the sadness behind her eyes. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, breathing in her scent, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of her skin against his.

Until this moment, until he was holding her so gently, he hadn't realised how her death, in a way, had sent him back to his island. Over the years they had come to know each other, she had become his touchstone, her kindness and her goodness reassuring him that he was no longer that man who had to fight to survive. She had always believed in him, found the tiniest crack in his well-built armour to shine a light through and burn the darkness away.

Without her, the darkness had frozen him.

Now seeing every detail of her face, feeling her breath skim across his skin and her warmth surrounding him, it made him realise how muted his senses had grown, how cold and faded the world had become around him.

"Felicity," he whispered again, saying her name aloud because it was like a miracle that he could say it and she could hear him. He opened his eyes and pulled his head back, looking at her face again.

And then she smiled at him, and he felt his heart begin to thaw.

....

 

As Oliver looked down at her, standing in the doorway of the cell, Felicity remembered.

She had forgotten how much Oliver reminded her of an eclipse. She had watched one with her father when she was a little girl, hopping in their beat-up car and driving all the way into the desert. She remembered watching the eclipse with equal parts wonder and terror, her father all the while warning her not to look directly at it, not to be scared, to wait for the sun to reappear again.

Her memories of Oliver had been laced with so much of her own grief that she had forgotten the darkness of him, the violence restrained in his body, the anger and remorse he carried around him like armour. Like an eclipse, he was at times terrifying to behold, with the scars visible on his skin and the scars inside him just visible through his eyes. She knew he was dangerous to look at directly, that if she looked at him too closely, she would be irreparably changed.

Reaching out, she placed her hands on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against her palm. Her eyes searched his face, reacquainting herself with the details she knew and discovering all the new details that had happened without her. Her hands drifted across his chest and over to his bare arms, her fingers trailing down across his skin, feeling his muscles twitching at her touch and the scars beneath her fingertips.

As she traced the scars across his skin, trying and failing to count them all, they reminded her that she had never been afraid to look too closely, she had never been afraid of his darkness, because she lived for the moments when the darkness would shift and she would see him. The real him.

How he burned so bright, burned like the sun, with a strength and a fire that took her breath away.

And as she felt his breath so warm against her cheeks, and his strong hands holding her like she was the most delicate, precious thing in the world to him, she remembered why it was that she loved him with a fierceness that had burned a hole in her heart the day she lost him.

"Oliver," she whispered and she felt his calloused hands stroking her cheeks as he said her name. She looked up at him, stared into his blue eyes and felt her heart begin to thaw.

For Felicity, it was like seeing the sun again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I hope this chapter didn't make anyone cry. So much crying.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you said that you didn't get an email about the update for the last chapter, so please make sure you've read Chapter 7 before this. Enjoy!

_This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realisation_   
_It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away_   
_Your love will be_   
_Safe with me_   
_  
-Bon Iver, 'Stacks'_

* * *

 

 

Oliver held Felicity's hand, leading her to the computer workstation before he let her hand go, feeling the loss of her touch almost immediately. Clenching his jaw, he stopped himself from reaching for her again as he motioned for her to sit down onto the chair.

Her chair.

He looked down at her for a moment, feeling something in his chest stirring as he took in the familiar sight of her sitting there. So many times in the past he had seen her in that chair, her fingers tapping away at the keyboard, her blond ponytail swinging as she looked from screen to screen. So many times he had looked over her shoulder, breathing in her scent, listening to her rambling a mile a minute as she talked about the latest mission and everything else besides that.

And so many times over the past five years he had stared at that empty chair, feeling her absence like a jagged wound so deep inside him that it just wouldn't heal, wouldn't even scar over.

He hadn't known how empty a chair could look until the moment he realised he would never see her sitting there again.

“Hey,” Felicity said, reaching out and placing her hand on his forearm. “It’s ok, Oliver. We’re going to work this out together.”

Oliver gave her a small smile, placing his hand over hers and giving it a brief squeeze before he went over to the glass case that still had his Arrow jacket inside it.

_Together_. She had always known what to say.

"I have to go out and patrol with the others," he said, pulling out his hood. He took his time putting it on, then picked up his bow and quiver before turning back to her. "The password is eyeofthetiger1001, no spaces," he said, gesturing at the computer. “That's Roy's password, by the way."

"A terrible password on so many levels," Felicity said with a roll of her eyes. Then she started and gave him a hesitant look. "Wait, why are you telling me the password to the computers?"

"They're your computers, Felicity," he said. "Always have been, always will be."

She swallowed heavily, her eyes searching his face. "You want me to man the computers?"

Oliver looked back at her steadily, taking a deep breath. His practical side knew it was a risk - that if, in fact, she had ulterior motives, giving her access to the Internet and top-of-the-line computers would be the hard way of finding that out. He also knew that she'd be able to search for all the answers to the questions she undoubtedly had. Like how he had spent the last five years. Like how she had died.

But despite the risks, he knew that putting Felicity back at her computers was the right thing to do. If they didn't know exactly where they stood at the moment as Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak, they had always, in the past, known exactly what they were as the Arrow and as the team tech genius. And if she took the opportunity to research some things, he would let her have that. He had never been afraid to share the dark, hard parts of the truth with her when he had needed to. He wouldn't change that now.

"I trust you," he said simply, making his way up to the stairs.

"Ok," she said in a small voice.

When he got to the top of the stairs, he paused when he heard her call out to him softly.

"Oliver, make sure you come back," she said.

He felt his heart break and bloom at the same time at those familiar words. She had always said that to him before he left the Foundry as the Arrow. He turned slightly and threw her a parting glance before walking out the door. 

It wasn't until he was riding his motorbike through the still streets of the city, the image of her in her chair still bright in his mind, that he realised in her world he had not come back to her.

He made a promise that he would never disappoint her like that again.

....

 

Felicity sat at her desk for a long time, not touching the computers, just staring. Not at the computer screen but at her hand. She was staring at her hand, the hand that Oliver had held.

Was it possible to feel such joy in a single, fleeting touch? The last time she had touched him, his skin had been icy cold. But this time, his hand had been warm, and so familiar and _right_ , like finding something she had cherished in her past and discovering that it still fit.

She knew that she should be feeling overwhelmed, that the rational, logical side of her should still be freaking out about the fact that she was now living in another universe. But in all honesty, all she felt was happy and warm, like she had spent so many years covered in frost and only now was thawing.

His hand on her hand. It had been so warm.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, she leaned back in her chair and allowed herself a moment to revel in her new freedom from the cell, at being back at her workstation again, in front of her beloved computers, at having her friends out there in the city, _alive_.

“Well Smoak,” she said, “it's not a tropical island but it'll do.”

Sitting up straight in her chair, she picked up the comms headset and put it on. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, almost typing in Roy’s (ridiculous) password; but on further thought she decided not to log on to the computers. She knew that if she did, temptation would be too great and she’d go on some sort of crazy Internet information-gathering bonanza about her life and the people in it.

And she decided she didn’t want to find out that way - through newspaper articles and city records and quite possibly hacking her friends’ personal accounts. She wanted to ask her friends those questions and she wanted to hear their answers. It would be better that way.

Clasping her hands resolutely in her lap, she kept her attention on the comms, leaning back in her chair. She didn’t say anything but instead listened to the occasional snippets of conversation going on between Diggle, Sara, Roy and Oliver. If it sounded like they were in trouble and they needed her help, she would jump into action and let them know that she was there for them. For now, she was content to doze off to the sound of their voices. She didn’t know if she’d ever get over hearing them all together again.

She woke up an hour later when she heard her name. She had fallen asleep bent over on the table, her head in her arms. She looked around, half-expecting someone to be standing behind her - but she realised that she was hearing her name through her earpiece. By the sounds of it the team was on its way back and it seemed like they were all arguing about something.

About her.

“I think she should stay at mine,” Diggle said. “We’ve got the room and I’m sure Lyla would want to see her.”

“You’ve got Felicity,” Roy said. “And I mean your kid Felicity, not Felicity-Felicity. And that sentence should just show you why she can’t stay with you.”

“She’ll stay with us,” Sara said. “We’ve got a spare bedroom, and I’m sure she’ll want some girl time.”

“I don’t know,” Diggle said. “Laurel never really knew her.”

“Yeah but I did,” Sara said. “I want her to stay with us.”

“Clearly she should stay with me and Thea,” Roy said. “We’re the closest to the Foundry and we live next door to Oliver.”

“So she can live on takeout?” Diggle said.

“At least she’ll have some clothes to borrow from Thea,” Roy said.

“I’ll buy her new clothes,” Sara said. “Why are we even discussing this?”

“Yes, why are we?” Oliver’s voice suddenly came through and it was met with a few seconds of ringing silence.

Then Roy spoke. “Yeah, Oliver, we’re not going to let Felicity stay in that cell anymore.”

“She’s not in the cell anymore,” Oliver said.

“She’s not…wait, what?”

“She’s probably listening to this whole discussion right now,” Oliver said. That statement was met with another few seconds of ringing silence.

It was Felicity who broke it. “Uh, yeah, hi guys.”

She didn’t know why, but she could almost feel Oliver’s small smile through the comms.

“Felicity will be staying with me,” Oliver said. There was a pause, and then he added, “If you want to.”

A long, yawning silence stretched out. Felicity could practically hear Diggle’s, Roy’s and Sara’s bated breaths, and Oliver’s determined patience.

“Yes, of course,” she finally said. “I’ll stay with you, Oliver.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely, wonderful comments! It gives me a reason to keep on top of this story. So sorry, again, for all the tears, but we will be moving on to the (mostly) light part of the story. Though I seem to bring on happy tears as well, so no promises. Next chapter up soon!


	9. Chapter 9

_It's hard being left behind. It's hard being the one who stays.  
_ - _Audrey Niffenegger, 'The Time Traveller's Wife'_

* * *

 

 

Oliver walked into his apartment, setting his bag on the floor by the door. The lights were on and he could hear some quiet shuffling coming from the guest bedroom down the end of the hall.

“Thea?” he called out, making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey Ollie!” he heard Thea call out from the bedroom. A few seconds later she appeared in the kitchen, dressed casually in dark jeans and a light blouse, her feet bare. “The room’s all set up for you. You know you have no food in your fridge though, right? I think the only edible thing you have in here are some eggs.”

“I’ll go to the supermarket tomorrow,” he said.

“Don’t worry I can go,” Thea said. “I have the morning free anyway.” She sat down on one of the stools by the kitchen bar, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at Oliver thoughtfully. “So when is she getting here?”

“Diggle’s driving her over now.” Avoiding Thea’s penetrating gaze, he went over to the cupboards and pulled out the eggs. He wasn’t feeling very hungry but he needed something to keep himself busy. Besides, he could tell by the studied calm in his sister’s demeanour that she had a million questions to ask him, and he knew it would only take a matter of minutes before she cracked. He needed some excuse not to look at her directly.

Sure enough, two minutes and a bowl full of whisked eggs later, Thea finally spoke.

"You're taking this really well," she said, trying to appear nonchalant but at the same time fixing him with her trademark Queen stare. It often caught him by surprise how much she reminded him of their mother.

"Taking what well?" he asked, locating the frying pan and pouring in the eggs.

"Oh, I don't know. The fact that a girl from another universe is coming over to stay with you. And the fact that that girl died five years ago. And the fact that said girl was — _is_ — the love of your life."

Oliver let out a loud sigh. "I've had a few days to get used to the situation.”

“So we’re going with the I-can’t-have-emotions-cos-I’m-Oliver-Queen way of dealing with this? Oh great, hooray for me.”

He let out a loud sigh. “Thea…” he began but then she held up her hands apologetically.

“Sorry, that was mean,” she said. “It’s just…Ollie, I never really knew Felicity, but I _do_ know how you feel about her. What I really don't get is why you're not jumping up and down with joy at having her back in your life.”

“I think you can appreciate that things are complicated,” he said quietly.

“Isn’t it always with you?” Thea said, her voice not angry but rather almost gentle. “Ollie, it’s a miracle that she’s back. And if there’s anyone in this room who understands how you feel about someone coming back from the dead, it’s me.”

Oliver’s mouth set into a thin line. Of course — he’d forgotten.

Thea stood up from the stool, walked to the cupboard and pulled out a plate for Oliver’s scrambled eggs. Handing it to him, she gave him a soft, sad smile.

“Do you remember what you said when you told me that she was dead?”

Oliver let out a heavy sigh and nodded his head. “I remember.”

…...

_Oliver practically fell out of the backseat of the taxi onto the pavement in front of a small villa in Corto Maltese. He had started the day with every intention of letting Thea know that he had found her before showing up at her doorstep; but considering he was very drunk and way past rational thought, all he managed to do was ring her doorbell before slumping down on the ground, his head in his arms. He felt sick but he just couldn’t pass out, no matter how many bottles of whiskey he consumed. It was as if all his past sins were taking their vengeance on him now, denying him sleep and oblivion, making him feel and live his pain._

_He heard the front door open and then Thea’s voice._

_“Ollie? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”_

_Oliver looked up, intending to tell her that he knew she was here with Malcolm Merlyn, that he knew she had run away from Starling and was keeping secrets; but one look at his little sister’s face, the only family he had left in the world, and he felt the last remnants of his self-control crumbling away. Huge sobs tore from his chest, becoming all the louder as he felt Thea’s arms wrapping around his shoulders._

_“Ollie, oh my God, what’s wrong?” she said. “Come inside, please.”_

_It took him three days to finally talk to her. The first day he spent lying numbly in his bed, sweating off the alcohol and praying for sleep as he failed to block memories that wouldn’t leave him alone. On the second day he walked around in a daze, feeling his sister’s worried stare following him around the house, waiting for an explanation._

_On the third day he was sitting outside on the terrace, staring at the setting sun, his mind calm, his tears gone, but the wound inside him so deep and all-reaching that he knew it was a part of him now. Thea had come to sit next to him, taking his hand in hers._

_“I want her back,” he simply said. “I just want her back.”_

…...

“Do you remember how horrible it was for the both of us when you came back from the island?” Thea asked. “You were so closed off and I was so screwed up.”

“We’re not those people anymore,” he said quietly.

“That’s right, we’re not,” she said. “You know I think it was Felicity, more than anything or anyone else, who brought you back. And ever since she died I feel like you’ve been gone too.”

“Thea,” Oliver said, turning to his sister and taking her hand. “I didn’t mean…”

“I’m not criticising,” Thea said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know you don’t like to hear me talking about him, but let me just say…Malcolm told me something once. He said that a person can go through anything, survive anything, lose anything — but it will take only one lynchpin to break them. I think your lynchpin was Felicity. So I’m glad she’s back.” She gave him a wide smile. “I hope this time she can bring you back too.”

…...

 

As they drove along in Diggle's car, Felicity stared out the window, taking in the sights of Starling City, a place she hadn't really seen properly in four years. To her amazement it looked a lot like the Starling City of her world, the marvel of the similarities punctuated by the small differences: a cafe with a different name, a building still standing, a park instead of a parking lot. She felt a sense of homecoming as the cityscape whizzed past her, knowing that despite the tragedy that the city held for her, it was also the place where she had found herself, found what it was she wanted to do with her life.

"Is it all familiar to you?" Diggle asked her.

"Yes," she said. "Most of it is the same."

He nodded and she noticed his jaw clenching. "Felicity, are you sure about this? About staying with Oliver?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just that things have always been...complicated with you two."

"You mean aside from the fact that he's been dead for five years in my world and I've been dead for five years in his world, and I've got an arrow tattoo on my chest?"

"Yeah, aside from that. I just meant that..." he hesitated, then let out a sigh. "He took your death the hardest out of all of us. I don't think he's ever moved past it, to be honest."

"Digg," Felicity said, "I'm sure about staying with him."

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at her, then turned his gaze back onto the road. "Okay."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, weaving through the streets of Starling City. When Diggle started to slow down, Felicity recognised the street they were on, a street full of high-end apartments pretty much bang in the middle between QC and the Foundry. Diggle pulled into an underground carpark and parked in the visitors' area.

"We'll go up from here, avoid the main lobby," Diggle said. "The less people who see you, the better."

"I'm surprised how light the security is here," Felicity said as she followed Diggle to the lift.

"Well, Oliver, Roy and Thea they don't exactly need security. They're barely here anyway. Besides," he said, giving her a wry smile as he stepped into the lift. "You haven't taken into account Oliver's weird sixth sense. He probably already knows you're here."

The lift doors opened up onto a wide corridor with soft dark carpet and muted lighting. Looking ahead, sure enough Felicity spotted Oliver waiting for them, leaning against one of the only two doors on the floor. As she and Diggle made their way over to him, Felicity guessed the other closed door led to Thea and Roy's apartment, judging by the Avengers sticker stuck on it. That had Roy written all over it.

"Hey," Felicity said, giving Oliver a small smile.

“Hey,” Oliver said. “You ok?”

“Sure,” she said. “It was a nice drive here.”

Oliver nodded, then stood up straight and opened the door. “I asked Thea to get your room ready."

"Thea," Felicity said. "Does she know about me?"

"She knows enough," Oliver said, avoiding her gaze in a way that piqued her curiosity. Making her way inside, she could only get a quick sense of the place — big open plan kitchen and living room, a hallway leading off to the back of the apartment — before Thea came over to them, clutching a plate of what looked like scrambled eggs and a fork in her hand.

"Hey," she said, holding out the plate. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh, um…” Felicity blinked at her and smiled before shaking her head. “Um, no thank you.”

"Thanks Thea," Diggle said, reaching over to take the plate off her. “I’m starving.” He made his way over to the kitchen, not before shooting Thea a significant look which, Felicity noted, Thea promptly ignored.

"Your room's the last door on the right,” Thea said, giving Felicity a bright smile. “It's got everything you should need. Roy's told me a little bit about what's happened, and what I'm thinking is what you probably want most right now is a shower."

Felicity's eyes lit up. "Oh my god, yes, that would be the best thing ever."

"Great," Thea said, giving her a big smile again. "I take it you can find your way to your bedroom by yourself. Oliver and I were just in the middle of doing a shopping list, is there anything special you want us to get for you?”

“I’d love some chocolate?"

“It was the first thing I wrote down, don’t worry. Ok then. I'll come check on you soon."

Felicity watched with bemusement as Thea ushered Oliver over to the kitchen. In her world, she had become close to Oliver’s sister after his death, and their friendship had been equal parts blessing and curse as Felicity had watched the same grief that she felt destroy Thea in its own unique way. It warmed Felicity's heart that this Thea seemed more happy, the guilt of Oliver's death not weighing her down. This Thea exuded competency and confidence like her mother, but had a certain charm that was all her own.

It was yet another thing she loved about this world.

She made her way to her bedroom without any trouble, considering there were only four doors to choose from: bathroom and laundry on the left near the main room, then further along Oliver's room and her own on the right. Curiosity over what Oliver's bedroom looked like warred with her need to have a shower, but in the end, the shower won.

She must have spent a good half hour under the running water in her ensuite, falling a little more in love with Thea Queen as she worked her way through various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, face scrub and body wash. By the time she exited the ensuite in the fluffiest dressing gown she had ever used, billowing clouds of steam in her wake, she felt like a new person. Thea was definitely moving quickly up her list of favourite people, especially when she found a fresh pair of flannel pyjamas and bed socks lying on the bed waiting for her. Removing her dressing gown, she gingerly checked that her stitches were all right before she dressed herself, sighing contentedly at the sensation of being clean. On the nearby dressing table Thea had also placed a bottle of moisturiser.

Felicity smiled. Yup, she definitely ranked at the top of the list.

As she pulled her damp hair into a loose bun on the top of her head, she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said and looked up to see Thea entering. Again Felicity was struck with how different this Thea was to the one in her world, and Felicity had to remind herself that this world’s timeline wasn’t the same when it came to her relationship with Thea. Though in her universe she and Thea had become close friends over the years after Oliver’s death, in this world Felicity reasoned that it could well be different. To her surprise, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out how different.

“I never got to meet you,” Thea said, her voice soft. “Not properly anyway.”

“No, not in this world, I guess. In my world we became friends under less than happy circumstances,” Felicity said before she could stop herself. That startled Thea a bit, but then she seemed to collect herself, her features smoothing out into its innocently curious expression. It made Felicity almost smile: that was such a Queen trait — don’t let anyone know how much they bother you.

“It always seemed wrong, really,” Thea said, “that I never met you properly, considering how much you meant to my brother.”

Felicity felt her heart twist. “I meant something to him?”

“Surely you know that.”

“I thought it could be different here.”

Thea brought her palm to her forehead, letting out a quiet, confused sound. “This is…like, very weird. You look so much like Felicity, and you are, except you’re a different one.”

“Yeah, it’s difficult to wrap your head around it. You're taking it rather well, though. Your brother locked me in a cell, whereas you've just pampered me.”

That made Thea grin. She lifted one shoulder in a rather helpless shrug. “Well, considering there’s Barry, and you know, the League of Assassins, Mirakuru and freaky goings-on in Central City, I guess alternate universes fits right in.” She cocked her head to the side, gazing at Felicity intently. “I don’t really know how well Ollie’s taking this,” she said. “He’s never gotten over you, you know.”

Felicity swallowed heavily. She knew a thing or two about never getting over someone.

“What happened, Thea? How did I die here?”

“Ollie hasn’t told you?”

“I haven’t asked him.”

“You should,” Thea said, her eyes never leaving Felicity’s face. “He should be the one to tell you.”

“Was he there - I mean, was he with me when I died?”

Thea gave her a long look, then nodded. “I was in Corto Maltese with my father and Oliver came to find me. He was a wreck. I’d never seen him like that before, not even after Tommy or my mom. It really freaked me out.”

“What did you do after he found you?”

“I came back with him here. We worked really hard, got in touch with Walter and then we took back QC and Oliver stepped up as CEO. I became VP. In a very convoluted way, we ended up doing what our parents always wanted.”

“And at night?”

“At night he does his Arrow thing. Bizarrely enough, it works for us.”

“Who does the tech?”

“Mostly we liaise with S.T.A.R Labs. Sometimes I man the desk, sometimes Laurel does. But you left a pretty big hole in the team, from what I could sense.”

“I’m sure he could find another techie to help out.”

Thea gave her a long look. “That’s not what I meant.”

They stood there for a while in silence, staring at each other in a curious and rather assessing way. Then Thea nodded her head towards the door. “Come on, you can show me if I’ve missed anything out of the shopping list. And I'm guessing Oliver will want to see that you're all right.”

Felicity followed her out of the bedroom and into the corridor. She had been in such a hurry to get to the shower that she hadn’t looked at it properly before; but this time she noticed that the wall was lined with a single row of five framed photographs. The first she passed was of Moira Queen, the second of Robert Queen. It was the third photo, the one in the centre of the row and directly opposite Oliver’s bedroom door, that made her stop in her tracks.

Thea noticed and came to stand next to her. “Oh yeah,” she said quietly, “I remember taking that photo.”

Felicity looked at the framed photo of her and Oliver, sitting at her desk in QC, their faces caught in mid laugh. She remembered that day — the morning when Thea had come in and told them about the latest tabloid story on Oliver Queen and his blonde secretary. Reaching up, she tenderly touched the framed photo, her heart clenching at the thought that Oliver had cherished it as much as she did.

“He looks so happy in that photo,” Thea said quietly.

“Yeah, so do I,” Felicity said. “I loved this photo when you gave it to me. It’s the only picture I had of the both of us.”

Thea gave her a confused look. “Wait, do you mean...”

Wordlessly, Felicity pulled out her locket from beneath her pyjama top and opened it, moving closer to Thea so she could see. Inside the locket, in the most minute, defined detail, was a tiny version of the same photo.

“You took this too, in my world,” Felicity said. She watched Thea’s eyes grow wide and she figured that Thea was feeling as overwhelmed and freaked out as she was, looking at a single moment caught in time that had happened in two separate universes. Felicity closed the locket and slipped it back under her top. Then tentatively she reached over and grasped Thea’s hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting her hand fall.

“I think it’s fitting that it’s you who took this photo in both of our worlds. It’s not every day you travel to a parallel universe and find out that you’re dead. But since my death led to you being back with your brother, I’m not _completely_  unhappy that I died. You always meant the world to him, Thea.”

Thea smiled, her eyes bright. “I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Why he’s missed you so much.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the delay! So bad. Sometimes things happen and those things SUUUCK. But I will try my best to get back to updating weekly. Thank you all, again, for your lovely encouragements and comments. They make me keep writing (or feel guilty about not writing, so I write.)


	10. Chapter 10

Oliver sensed the moment Felicity woke up, hearing her shuffling footsteps coming down the hall from where he sat in the kitchen. He had gotten up early that morning, not wanting her to wake to an empty house, but it turned out that she was as tired as she had looked the evening before when she had bid him goodnight after her shower. The morning hours had gone by with her sleeping soundly — he knew because he had peeped inside her room a couple of times to check on her, trying to ignore a niggling feeling in the back of his head that she was just going to suddenly disappear. He had gotten some work done from home, interrupted only by Thea popping in with groceries and clothes; but most of the morning he had spent alone, waiting.

Pulling two mugs from the cupboard, he had the coffee machine going by the time Felicity rounded the corner and appeared.

“Oh my God that smells so good,” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness as she took a seat at the breakfast bar, propping her elbows onto the bench top and holding her head up with her hand. Her hair was piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, a few blonde strands escaping to fall down her neck. She was still in the pyjamas that Thea had given her — a white flannel set with daisies dotted all over them.

“Here, I figured you’d be needing this,” he said, holding up a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He gave her a questioning look. “How do you like it?”

“Ooooh, hot and steamy,” she said, her sleep-laced voice lower and croakier than usual. Oliver raised an eyebrow at her but she just gave him a sleepy stare. Then suddenly she jerked and sat up straight in her chair, her face no longer sleepy but turning a bright red.

“Coffee! I meant the coffee. I like hot coffee.”

“I know what you meant,” Oliver said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Yeah but then you did that eyebrow thing you do…” she said, then let out a sigh. “Why are you even asking me? You know how I like my coffee.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry, I’m still half asleep. Just a splash of cream, no sugar.”

Oliver nodded and turned back to the fridge to get a carton of milk. He had almost made her coffee the way he remembered she liked it, but then had thought that he should ask. Good thing he had.

“How did you sleep?” he asked as he placed her mug in front of her before taking his own and leaning on the bench across from her.

“Like a rock,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty late.”

“I don’t have my phone,” she said, letting out a small yawn. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Half twelve.”

“Half _twelve_?” she exclaimed. “As in the _afternoon_? Oh my God, you should have woken me up! I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got here!”

He gave her a smile. “I didn’t want to wake you. I don’t really know what the effects are when it comes to…”

“Crossing universes?” she said with a smile. "It feels a lot like jet lag. The worst ever jet lag.” She took a sip of her coffee then raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

He shrugged. “I was going to head in but I thought that under the circumstances—”

She stopped him with a glare. “You haven’t taken the day off on my account, have you? A Fortune 500 company isn’t going to run itself.”

“Felicity,” he said, giving her a look. “I think today, of all days, I am entitled to a day off. Besides,” he said, as he watched her gearing up to argue with him, “I want to spend some time with you.”

That shut her up. “Oh,” she said in a small voice and her cheeks turned slightly pink. He turned away, hiding the small smile on his face. He had forgotten how much he liked it when she was suddenly rendered speechless by something he said.

"Did you want some breakfast? Well, more like lunch now,” he said, walking over to the cupboard and surveying the contents. “Thea got us some groceries and I think she may have gone a little overboard.”

“Whoa, she really doesn’t do anything by halves, does she?” Felicity said. “Not that I’m complaining, because is that pancakes and maple syrup I see?”

"Pancakes for lunch?" he said, giving her a dubious look.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Breakfast food is anytime food, Oliver.”

The corners of his mouth twitching, he pulled the pancake mix out of the cupboard and set it down on the bench top.

”Let me help," she said, wiggling her fingers at him. Lobbing the box gently over to her, she caught it easily and read the instructions on the box, her forehead crinkling in concentration.

“You know it’s not rocket science,” he said as he watched her read the instructions for what seemed like the twentieth time.

“It says it makes eight. I’m trying to figure out how much I’ll need of the mix.”

“Just make all of it. Two for you, six for me.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. ”I forgot how much you can eat," she said.

"Is that judgement I hear?"

She grinned. “Pride."

That made him smile. “It’s easy to cook, Felicity. Just follow the instructions.”

“Famous last words.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a certified genius.”

She let out a frustrated huff and threw the box down onto the bench. “Everyone has an Achilles’ heel. Mine, it turns out, is cooking in all its permutations.” She gave him a look. “I keep your secret.”

“Do you want me to take over?” he asked. “You can clean up.”

“Yes. Cleaning! Cleaning I can do. And I’ll set the table.”

She stood up from the breakfast bar with her mug in her hand and came to stand next to him, her shoulder brushing his arm. Her familiar scent reached him and surrounded him, filling his senses, pulling at his memories.

Then in an instant, out of nowhere, he was suddenly overwhelmed with all the long hours, days, months, _years_ , he had endured without her. All those moments when he had turned around expecting to see her there with her tablet, fixing him with a stare. All those moments when he had wished he could hear her voice just one more time.

Now here she was standing beside him, doing something as mundane as fixing some lunch, in his kitchen. Like she had never been gone.

The smile that she had pulled out of him with her babbling slipped from his face. He felt tears spring sharply to his eyes and without thinking twice, he reached over and grasped her hand. He heard her gasp quietly; then she looked up at him, her blue eyes bright.

“Oliver,” she murmured, squeezing his hand gently. He clenched his jaw, unwilling to meet her gaze, knowing he would lose it if he looked at her. Out of the corner of his eyes, she gave him a small smile of understanding and squeezed his hand one more time before letting it go.

Without another word, the earlier levity between them gone, the two of them began to work around the kitchen, both careful not to touch each other but never straying far. They moved with a tentative familiarity, the silence between them easy but filled with all the things they had yet to say to each other. Occasionally Oliver would find his attention caught by something: the golden light of her hair, the bright polish on her nails, the glances she snuck his way; and in those brief moments an ache would thud dully in his chest and he would wonder how he'd ever survive it if he lost her again.

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were sitting opposite each other at the small kitchen table by the window, the view outside overlooking the city. They each had a plate in front of them, Felicity with two waffles, Oliver with six, a bowl of fresh fruit salad between them. They continued their silence, occasionally exchanging shy looks but mostly enjoying the view outside the window. The apartment overlooked a small inner-city park where people were currently enjoying the morning, dressed in their winter clothes, making the most of the rare sunny day. Oliver found himself watching a young couple walking hand-in-hand, a toddler holding on to the man’s hand as they meandered through the park.

Then his gaze drifted unerringly back to Felicity’s face. She was staring out the window too, her expression far away.

“I never thought I’d ever come back to Starling City,” she said quietly, finally breaking the silence between them.

Oliver stared at her, watching her face closely. “Why did you leave?”

“A lot of reasons,” she said. She didn’t look at him but just kept her gaze on the view outside. “After you…my Oliver…died, things just got difficult for me. And one day I realised that I needed some place I could go where everywhere I looked I didn’t think of…” her voice trailed away, and Oliver saw her eyes filling with tears. He reached over and placed his hand on top of hers on the table. She didn’t turn to look at him at the contact, but she smiled a little and moved her hand so she held his.

“I forgot how beautiful this city could be,” she said. “Why we did what we did.”

He moved his gaze from her back to the view outside, his eyes landing again on the couple with the child walking through the park. “Do you think it was worth it? Saving the city?”

“Over everything we lost?” She finally turned to him and gave him a small, sad smile. “Almost.”

As his eyes met hers, a glimmer of an emotion he couldn't name washed through Oliver, unsettling him, making his breath quicken and his skin tingle. He thought for a moment that it was a delayed reaction to seeing her again, because here she was, alive and breathing, when she wasn’t supposed to be.

She squeezed his hand slightly, unaware of the feelings coursing through him. “Over the last five years I’ve become braver and stronger,” she continued. “But sometimes I’d remember the way I felt and I’d think…”

He stared into her blue eyes, his chest clenching in understanding. Nodding his head, he finished her sentence for her: “I’d remember and I’d think I could have been just happy.”

She gave him her small, sad smile - her small, sad smile that was already becoming so familiar to him. And that was when realisation struck him: the unsettling feeling running through him wasn’t because he was seeing her again. It was because he was seeing her like _this_ : in his memories and in his dreams, she had always been dressed in one of her colourful outfits, sky-high heels on her feet, bright makeup perfect, her hair in its usual ponytail, surrounded by a bubble of loveliness and energy and efficiency. Before, they had always met in a professional capacity, either in their roles at QC or for their Arrow missions, always on the go, ready to save the company or take on the world.

Seeing her now, like this, dressed in her pyjamas, her hair disheveled, her face clear and bright, he could see it now, how different she was.

He could see the old Felicity — his Felicity he remembered — in her. She was there in the way she talked, in the way she looked at him, in the way she still made him feel.

But mostly he just saw her. _This_ Felicity. How silence suited her more now than it used to. How the nervous energy that always seemed to radiate off her was now tempered with a certain gracefulness and gentleness. How her smiles, though still bright, were tinged with a soft sadness, as if she carried something inside her that was heavy and aching.

This was the Felicity who had mourned him. This was the Felicity who had never let him go.

This was the Felicity he saw. And if he had thought her lovely before, he found her beautiful now.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Felicity stared at the pile of clothes on her bed, her hands on her hips. Letting out a huge sigh, she grabbed the nearest pair of trousers and most colourful blouse she could see and slipped into them.

She loved Thea, she really did, but the girl could do with less black leather in her wardrobe. Especially when it came to trousers and Felicity having to get into them. Ten minutes later she was looking at herself in the mirror, a half-impressed look on her face.

_Not too bad, Smoak,_ she thought to herself. _Never thought leather pants could be your thing, but you are almost rocking this look_.

She did a few twirls in front of the mirror, making sure she actually did look ok in the pants and it wasn’t just her own delusional thinking. The sound of a throat clearing stopped her mid-twirl and she looked up to find Oliver standing in the doorway to her room, a bemused expression on his face.

“Everything ok?” he asked.

She could feel her face reddening but she valiantly tried not to notice, giving him a small shrug. “The clothes are a bit different to what I’m used to.”

To her surprise, a pained look swept across Oliver’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think…we can go shopping if you want to.”

“No, no,” she said quickly, waving her hands emphatically and closing the distance between them. “I’m not…I’m not thinking about how different things are. I just thought…Thea looks way better in these leather pants.”

The pained expression on Oliver’s face disappeared, sending a wave of relief over Felicity; which was quickly replaced with mortification when she felt Oliver’s eyes sweeping the length of her body, with just enough of a trace of appreciation to make her nervous.

“So…” she murmured, adjusting her glasses, her face burning hotter. “Is there something you wanted?”

“I was thinking,” Oliver murmured, his gaze almost reluctantly moving from her leather-clad legs to her face. When he found her looking at him he cleared his throat loudly, his cheeks reddening slightly. Seeing him look slightly embarrassed made Felicity feel a little bit better.

“You’ve been indoors for most of the time you’ve been here,” he said. “You want to go somewhere?”

“Go somewhere?” Felicity said, surprised. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea to show my face somewhere public, Oliver.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere private,” he said with a small smile.

 

Twenty minutes later they were hopping out of Oliver’s car, the grand facade of the Queen family mansion towering over them. Oliver had driven around to the garage at the back of the house, so they spent a few minutes walking along the paved courtyard to the front door. Felicity was silent, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on her face, the crisp air across her skin, and the smell of almost-blooming roses all around her. She had only been to the mansion a handful of times, most of them not very fun experiences, so she was pleasantly surprised to find the well-tended flowerbeds and beautiful ivy-covered walls. In her memories the Queen mansion resembled the Addam's family house.

"It's so beautiful," Felicity murmured as they walked slowly side by side. "I don't remember it being like this."

“It wasn't,” Oliver said. "I made a lot of changes."

"Why? Is this your vacation home now or something?"

Oliver looked at her and gave her a small smile. "I take it you missed the large sign by the front door when we drove past?"

"Um, I was kind of distracted by the large mansion looming in front of me."

He reached out and held her hand. "Come on then," he said.

Curious, Felicity let him lead her around the corner of the house to the front. She looked up at where he was pointing and let out a small gasp.

"Oliver," she said, squeezing his hand, feeling tears come to her eyes. "What...is this for real?"

Her eyes read over the brass plaque again, though it didn't do anything to get rid of her disbelief.

THE FELICITY SMOAK SUMMER ACADEMY

"It was one of the first things I commissioned when I became CEO," Oliver said in a quiet voice. "I wanted to do something...something that would make you -- my Felicity -- proud. And I remembered this time she told me about, the best summer she ever had at a science summer school. How she wanted someday to do something like that for underprivileged kids, give them a chance."

"In Florida," Felicity said, remembering the same summer he was talking about. "I went to summer school in my world too. I learnt a lot about computers then. And a lot of other stuff. It was probably the only time I ever seriously considered becoming an astronaut." She laughed and shook her head. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"I remember everything about her," he simply said.

They stood there looking at the sign for a moment, Felicity with a tumble of emotions swirling inside her. She kept stealing glances up at Oliver, studying his face in the afternoon sunlight, trying to reconcile her memories of the Oliver she had known with the Oliver she was standing next to now. That he would build something like this, something that could make a real difference in the world. That he would change Starling City not as the Arrow but as Oliver Queen.

"Building a school for gifted kids," she said. "It's not really your style."

"It wasn't, at least not back then," he replied. "But someone once told me, I had to find another way." He gave her a small smile, then tugged her hand away. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

"But I want to see inside-"

"The school's all closed up for the winter. I'd rather you see it when it's running. Besides, I promised you fresh air and sunshine."

They meandered their way to the back of the house with its large lawn and beautiful flowerbeds. Although a large part of her wanted to go inside the mansion and check out what things a summer school for geeky kids contained, she was also glad for the fresh air, so she found herself relaxing and enjoying this quiet moment with Oliver. He had not let go of her hand and she was glad for it. Something about it anchored her, made her believe that this whole thing was real.

"I still can't quite believe it all," she said quietly. "You know, you, me, us being here together again."

She felt his hand squeezing hers slightly. "Felicity," he said, "I don't want you to feel...unsure about being here. Please, ask me the things you want to ask."

"How do you know I have things to ask you?"

"Wouldn't be you if you didn't."

Her lips curved upwards in a small smile. "You're right. I have, like, a million things to ask you. But that could take me hours. _Days_ , even. But I think what would help right now is if I had the...basics."

"The basics?"

"Yeah, like, were you on Lian Yu and Hong Kong for five years?"

Oliver nodded his head.

"And your dad?"

He squeezed her hand again. "My dad. The book. Saving the city. Sound familiar?"

Felicity nodded her head, stroking his arm gently. She hated bringing this up, but she had to know just how much this universe's history was the same as hers. Since she was planning on being here for a while, she had to make sense of things.

"How did we meet?" she asked, and she felt a sudden wild hope in her heart that they had met the same way. She thought she could handle everything else being different, if only they met the same way in both universes.

A smile appeared on his face. "I walked into your office in the IT department at QC. I brought in a shot-up laptop and I wanted you to salvage the information on it. You were...very unimpressed with my cover story."

"Your coffeeshop being in a bad neighbourhood?"

"Yeah. You made me smile."

"Oh yeah, all my babbling and gestures, it usually amuses people. Or annoys them. It's fifty-fifty. And I was chewing on a pen."

"It was red," Oliver said quietly.

Felicity's eyes widened and she looked at him disbelievingly. Not because he'd remembered the colour of the pen, but because of a memory that she had of him saying the same thing to her, in exactly the same tone, on their first and only date.

"You said that to me once," she told him without really meaning to. The last thing she wanted to talk about was their disastrous date. But now that it was out there, she found that she couldn't stop her mouth from moving. "You asked me out. To dinner. You took me out to dinner."

It was Oliver's turn to look surprised. "I did?"

"You did. I dressed up, you dressed up, we had Italian and we were both nervous as hell. That didn't happen with you?"

"I never...got the chance," he said quietly. "But I'm glad I did...somewhere out there."

"Well..." Felicity said, her face scrunching up slightly. "It was a nice date...but then someone had to blow up the restaurant."

"Oh," he said. "Let me guess. First and only date?"

She gave him a small smile. "You thought it was for the best. Don't get me wrong, I totally disagreed with you, but you're a hard man to reason with sometimes. But you know, there's always a second chance, right? Not that I want to go out on a date with you! I'm not saying that. Although if you did, I wouldn't say no. Not that I'm thinking about dates right now, that's the last thing on my mind! Because I'm me and you're you, and to make it worse, I'm not the me you knew and you're not the you I knew...and you know you could always stop me talking before I make a complete fool of myself."

"Felicity, I've lived without hearing your voice for five years," he said in a soft voice. "The last thing I would do right now is stop you talking."

"Oh," she said, her cheeks going pink. That was such an un-Oliver thing to say. "You know, you're different now," she said, again before she could stop herself. "I mean, of course you're different, you're a different person to the Oliver I knew, but I mean you're still...different." _Oh God, why am I still talking?_ She closed her eyes briefly, concentrating on sealing her lips tight.

"You're different too," Oliver said after a few seconds of silence.

Felicity, probably through self-preservation, decided not to comment on that. Instead she stopped to look up at him and he looked down at her and they stared at each other for a while, the silence between them stretching. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of emotions which she had been able to handle because of the miracle of seeing Oliver alive again. But now that things were beginning to calm down, the reality of her situation was beginning to seep through the haze of her wonder. A strange sensation started to grow in her chest and she began to realise that despite how similar this universe was to hers, how similar this Oliver was to the Oliver she had known, it was all still _different_. Because she was the _wrong_ Felicity. This Oliver standing in front of her had cared for and lost a _different_ Felicity. And the subsequent years had changed him, made him even more different. For all intents and purposes, they were practically strangers now. Could she even feel the same way about him? Could they fall back on old patterns, old feelings? Did she even want to?

"Felicity," Oliver murmured, breaking through her reeling thoughts. "Let's just walk, ok?"

She blinked a few times then gave him a reluctant smile, trying to banish the thoughts spinning through her mind. She nodded in agreement, then let Oliver lead her further down the path away from the mansion, which ended surprisingly at a large locked gate. It was made of iron, ornate and rather pretty. A large sign hung on it reading PRIVATE: NO ENTRY. By the latch was a keypad in which Oliver typed in a code, opening the gate.

"This is where I go sometimes to be alone," he said, leading her past the gate. They entered a small courtyard that seemed warmer than the gardens and lawns outside, with small rock-bed gardens and nearby a quietly trickling fountain. Tall lampposts wound along the edge of the courtyard leading to a small bench underneath a trellis hung with wisteria.

"Oliver, it's so beautiful," Felicity said quietly, letting go of his hand so she could explore. As her eyes wandered around the courtyard she could see sweet little touches here and there, things that made her smile: a gnome statue hiding under a rose bush; some wind chimes hanging from a tree. She turned to Oliver with an envious look.

"What a wonderful place to grow up with," she said.

"I didn't grow up with this," he said. He put his hands in his pockets, a vulnerable look suddenly on his face. "I built this. It was...my new way of coping." He came to stand next to her, his eyes faraway. "When you — my Felicity — died, I…nothing I did seemed to help. When Tommy died I went back to the island. When my mom died, I went to my second location to just be alone. But when I lost Felicity, running away and hiding didn’t seem right. She was always really good at reminding me of the good things in life, about what there was to still live for. She was like...a light, showing me the way back. I wanted to remember that. Remember her." He smiled, sadly. "This garden had to do."

Felicity turned to look at Oliver, the strange sensation back in her chest. It was like she was talking to a stranger, but one she had known for a long time. This Oliver was so much like the Oliver she had lost: reserved, careful, wounded, sad. She knew that this Oliver had been on the island. She knew he had suffered great losses in his life. She knew that his grief and his guilt at all his past wrongdoings had turned him into the Arrow.

But there was a new side to him as well, something that touched a chord deep inside her.

Her eyes fell to the bench in front of her where she could see a small brass plaque inlaid into the wood. Walking forwards, she reached out and stroked the inscription on it, her eyes filling with tears again.

"You really loved her, didn't you?" she whispered.

He didn't reply, but he didn't need to. The words beneath her fingertips answered for him.

_For Felicity, a light in the darkness_   
_From Oliver, who followed her home._

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, looking at him again but this time with all the knowledge that he wasn't _her_ Oliver, that she wasn't _his_ Felicity, that they were people with a similar past, from two different worlds, meeting for the first time.

She looked up at him and she _saw_.

Here was the Oliver she had always hoped to meet, from the moment when he had walked into her office so many years ago and she had seen through his mask. Here was the Oliver she had put her faith in when she had joined his crusade. Here was the Oliver she had always hoped to see one day — a man who could harness a deep loss, a deep pain, and instead of using it to fuel the darkness that lived in his soul, had used it instead to make something light and beautiful.

Here was an Oliver Queen who built schools for children. An Oliver Queen who built gardens.

An Oliver Queen forged not by death and destruction, but by love.

She stroked the inscription on the bench once more before drying her eyes and standing up to take Oliver's hand. She felt an overwhelming pity that this world's Felicity had not gotten the chance to meet this Oliver.

But she was happy that she was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice to be back here, guys. Sorry so long. Thanks to all the people who asked me to update this and not forget this story! It made me sit down and write some more.


	12. Chapter 12

The next week Felicity spent most of her days in Oliver’s apartment. At first she spent an embarrassing amount of time sleeping (space-time travel really took it out of her), but after a day or two her weariness had worn off, much to Roy and Sara’s delight. Since the two of them took turns managing Verdant, they began to spend their days off with Felicity either in Oliver’s apartment or in Roy’s, since Felicity still thought it wasn’t a good idea to go out in public until she had a cover story sorted. Felicity soon found her days filled with chatting to Roy or Sara as they worked out in Roy’s gym, or binge-watching Netflix shows with them. They spent a lot of time eating. They spent a lot of time laughing.   
  
It made Felicity realise that she hadn't felt this happy for a long time.

The best part of Felicity's day came during the small space of time when Oliver got back from QC and before they made their way to the Foundry. She loved hearing the front door open, his hesitant "Felicity?" as he came inside, seeing him smile at her. This was what she now dubbed silently to herself as ‘their time’ and over the week she had begun to get to know this Oliver. She discovered that he liked to cook; that Sara and Laurel swapped recipes with him; that he and Thea went out for brunch every Saturday morning. She found out that his favourite part about being a CEO was all the charity work he could do; that he was teaching Felicity Diggle how to play baseball; that he, Roy and Digg were fixing up a classic Mustang convertible stored at Diggle’s house which Lyla threatened to have bombed every other day.

She found out that Oliver liked to cook her dinner every night before they went to the Foundry; that he talked more easily; that he made her laugh.

Some moments Felicity would catch herself simply watching Oliver as he moved around the kitchen, and she would feel something stirring in her chest, equal parts heavy and light. Though neither of them talked about what they were doing nor where their relationship stood exactly, they both seemed content to just enjoy the time they had. The time that had been given to them.

Because what also remained unspoken between them was a fear that they both shared: that their time together was limited. 

When it came to the Arrow team they easily fell into a routine that was familiar to Felicity. The night after she moved into Oliver’s apartment, he had driven them to the Foundry where Dig, Roy and Sara were already waiting. They had spent time talking over a few ongoing cases and making plans for the night's activities. Before Felicity knew it, she was back behind her computers, lending eyes and ears and a constant stream of babble.

It was almost like she had stepped back in time, to a place that was so familiar to her that she could barely believe that she had even lived another life. As the week passed, she could almost convince herself that the past five years of her life had never happened.

Then she would be reminded of where she was: it was there in Roy's scar, in Sara's easy smile; she was reminded every time Diggle talked about his daughter.

And Oliver. Oliver reminded her of what she had lost — and everything she had gained when she had fallen through that gate.

 

\-------

 

It was a week after she had been back on the team when Felicity met Laurel. It was after midnight and the team was on its way back to the Foundry. She was busy shutting down her computers and putting away her headset when she heard the Foundry door open. Turning around she saw Laurel coming down the steps, wearing a blue dress and high heels. She had obviously come in from Verdant.

Laurel hesitated when she saw Felicity at the computers, then seemed to steel herself and make her way across the floor. Felicity turned in her chair and stood up, suddenly feeling nervous.

She had grown close to Laurel in her world, with the death of Sara and then Oliver in the same year bringing them close. But with a few educated guesses about the dissimilarity of their timelines, Felicity surmised that this world's Felicity and Laurel had barely known each other.

"Hi," Laurel said, coming to a stop in front of her. She was smiling, albeit a little hesitantly. "I thought...I'd come down here and make sure you were all right."

"Me?" Felicity said rather inanely.

"Yeah," Laurel said, her smile widening slightly. "Sara said before she went out on patrol that you were down here by yourself."

"Oh," Felicity said. "Well, I'm all right. I mean, I'm fine, it's just like riding a bike, you know." She gestured around the Foundry by way of explanation.

Laurel gave her an assessing look for a few seconds before she seemed to decide something. "Sara gave me the short version of what's happened with you over the past few days. And while it makes no sense to me at all, she trusts you."

"Oh, um...good?"

"Look, to be perfectly honest, I don't really know you very well, Felicity. But Sara and Oliver, they're my family, and when you...died...it almost broke them. Oliver, I think it _did_ break him. So what I'm really trying to say is I want to help you. I'm the DA now, so I can hunt down some case files and build a story around you, make it seem like you were in Witness Protection.”

Felicity blinked. Then blinked again. She wasn't surprised at the idea — the same cover story had occurred to her and she had already come up with a list of databases to hack; rather she was surprised that Laurel was willing to help her.

"You'd do that? That's so...well, I was going to say 'sweet', but that seems pretty inappropriate." 

That made Laurel smile. "I can see why Sara likes you." She looked around the Foundry and pointed at a chair nearby. "Mind if I sit?"

"No, go ahead," Felicity said, sitting back in her own chair. "I guess you've had some practice with people coming back from the dead, huh?"

"More than most," Laurel agreed. "It helps that I didn't really know you — I mean the other Felicity. The last time we hung out, we were both kidnapped by Slade Wilson." She gave Felicity a sly grin. "What are our lives when I get to say a sentence like that without blinking an eye?"

"Tell me about it," Felicity said. "Kidnapped by a psychopath...meh."

They laughed together, and Felicity felt some of her nervousness ebbing away. She remembered that she had always been wary of Laurel before — largely because of Oliver's seemingly undying devotion to her — but she knew that becoming friends with her had been surprisingly easy. Maybe it would be again.

"You know, that was the first time I found out how important you…well, the other Felicity, was to Oliver," Laurel said.

"Oh, the whole 'woman that he loves' ruse?" 

Laurel blinked, looking slightly taken aback, and Felicity remembered that alternate universes was actually a startling thing to be confronted with. She had gotten used to the idea already but obviously she couldn’t say the same for Laurel. She was about to apologise; but then Laurel seemed to pull herself together and shook her head.

“No, not that,” she said. “It’s the fact that Felicity was in on the plan. Oliver doesn't trust people easily. It was bad when we were kids, you know him being a Queen and everything, but it got a whole lot worse when he came back. The fact that Felicity was in on the plan to defeat Slade — that's when I knew that she was important to him."

"Laurel, I know that you've been in his life for a long time..."

"No, I'm not attacking you or complaining or anything," she interjected. "It's just that I want you to know that I understand that you being here, wherever you’ve come from, is important to Oliver. And just seeing him over the past few days…I’m glad you're here. That's all."

"Well, I'm glad to be here as well." 

"Will you be staying?" 

Felicity paused at the unexpected question. She looked at Laurel, who was looking back at her steadily, without remorse at the abrupt question, looking every inch a lawyer. At first she felt taken aback but then Felicity figured that of all the people who would ask, it would be Laurel. She had always been upfront and rather fearless. She was also the least emotionally invested in the whole situation. If she had talked to Lyla first, she probably would have gotten the same question from her. In a way, Laurel and Lyla were very similar.

"Whether I _can_ stay or will, I don't know. But I want to," she answered truthfully.

Laurel gave her another one of her assessing looks, then nodded and stood up. "I'll get on the witness protection stuff when I go to the office tomorrow. And maybe Sara and I could have you over for dinner sometime?"

Felicity gave her a genuine smile. "That would be nice. I'd like that." 

They both looked up when they heard the Foundry door open, then Oliver came down the stairs, his bow in his hand, his Arrow hood pulled back. He slowed when he saw them.

"Laurel," he said, his voice sounding a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to meet Felicity. Properly this time," Laurel said with a smile. "We're setting up a dinner date."

"Really?" Oliver said, coming to stand next to Felicity where she was seated in her chair.

"With Sara," Felicity said. "You know, girls night?" 

Oliver looked down at her for a beat, an inscrutable look on his face. Then he gave her a small smile. “That sounds nice,” he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before going to his worktable to put his gear away. Laurel’s eyes followed him before she turned back to Felicity.

“I guess I’ll see you guys later,” she said, giving her a smile. 

“Thanks Laurel,” Felicity said. Laurel nodded and headed up the stairs, soon leaving her and Oliver alone in the Foundry. Felicity quickly swivelled in her chair to face Oliver.

“Are you ok with me being friends with Laurel?” she asked him.

Oliver looked up from his worktable, surprise on his face. “Of course. Why not?”

Felicity shrugged, standing upand walking over to him. “I don’t know. You never really…I mean…I just thought with me…You know what? Never mind.” She began to turn away, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Felicity,” Oliver said, reaching over and taking her hand. “Just for the record, Laurel and I, we’re not together.”

“Oh,” Felicity said. She hadn’t thought they were — ok, maybe the thought might have crossed her mind — but it was nice to be told definitely.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” Oliver continued, his blue eyes intent on her face.

“Oh,” Felicity said again, this time with more surprise. “Why not?”

Oliver let go of her hand and shrugged, returning his gaze to the arrows he was working on. “I just couldn’t.”

Felicity opened and closed her mouth a few times, but found that she couldn’t get her voice to work. What did Oliver mean that he ‘just couldn’t’ be with anyone? And how long was a long time? Was it since this world’s Felicity had died? Had she really meant that much to him?

If Oliver noticed her current state of speechlessness, he didn’t let on. Quietly he put his arrows back in their case, hung his bow up and took off his Arrow jacket before slipping another one on. Then he came to stand next to her mute form.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching for her hand again. “Let’s go home.”

 

————-

 

It was almost past three in the morning. Oliver leaned back in his chair, looking up at the clear night sky. They had returned home from the Foundry about an hour ago, and while Felicity had gone straight to bed, he had felt restless and unsettled, and so had grabbed a warmer jacket and sat outside on the balcony. His thoughts went back to earlier in the evening when he had walked back into the Foundry after his night patrol. He had felt good at how the night had gone, all due to the familiar sound of Felicity's voice in his ear. It might have been five years and another universe, but she still babbled.

And it still made him smile.

He had always loved that about his Felicity, and he was glad that this Felicity wasn’t quite free of the habit. Although he was growing used to her quieter, gentler ways, he loved the fact that she could still talk a mile a minute.

Her voice. He loved her voice.

He smiled, remembering her earlier embarrassment when she had tried to ask about Laurel. He had thought, after the past week they had spent together, that she wouldn’t doubt how important she was to him — how so much more important she was _becoming_ to him.

This world’s Felicity had never known. But Laurel did. Maybe it was time that he told this Felicity too. 

 

—————

 

_“Ollie?”_

_Oliver turned slightly at the familiar voice, finding Laurel standing behind him. She gave him a small smile._

_“Laurel? What are you doing here?”_

_“I…I came to visit Tommy,” she said, coming to stand beside him. Her eyes flickered down to the headstone in front ofthem before returning to his face._

_“Would you like me to leave?” she asked._

_“No,” Oliver said._

_They stood in silence for a while, the quietness of the cemetery surrounding them. After a while, as the silence stretched, Oliver began to feel Laurel grow uncomfortable and wondered if she would leave. She looked like she was just about to go when he spoke._

_“I just like to be near her.”_

_She looked up at him, studied him for a while._

_“You know, you never really told me about her,” she said quietly. “I mean, even when she was alive. I never knew how much she meant to you.”_

_Oliver clenched his jaw. “Neither did I.”_

_Laurel reached out to take his hand and he accepted it willingly._

_“How often do you come here?” she asked._

_“Every day.”_

_She squeezed his hand, making him look up at her face where he saw an understanding expression in her eyes._

_“How often do you come to see Tommy?” he asked._

_She smiled. “When I want some good company.” She looked down at the headstone again, her smile disappearing. “Isn’t it just like us, to not know what we had until it’s gone? You’d think we would have learnt that lesson the first time round when you disappeared.”_

_Oliver’s face darkened, Laurel’s words sinking heavily into his chest. His mind reminded him of all those times he could have learnt that lesson: the time with the Dodger; the time with the Count; the time with Slade._

_“I remember the first time I met her,” Laurel said quietly. “We were in Verdant at the bar, remember?”_

_He nodded, remembering it clearly. It seemed like a lifetime ago._

_“You said she was there to set up your router,” she continued with a small smile. “She called me 'That Laurel. Gorgeous Laurel.' And then she looked at you and you looked at her. The way you interrupted her, you sounded so exasperated."_

_Oliver smiled, remembering the way Felicity had babbled and gestured wildly, trying to cover up why she was in Verdant's basement._

_"That was the first time you seemed normal to me," Laurel said._

_Oliver gave her a questioning look._

_"I mean, she treated you..." Laurel shrugged her shoulders. "She treated you differently than we did. And you were different with her. Lighter."_

_Oliver felt tears spring to his eyes as he looked away from Laurel and back down to the headstone in front of them._

_"She was the first person who made me believe."_

_"Believe what?"_

_"That I might deserve to feel happy again."_

 

_\-----------------_

 

He heard the sliding door opening behind him, then felt the air instantly change, as it always did whenever she walked into a room. He turned slightly as she came to stand beside him. Her hair fell in soft curls around her face as she pulled the throw around her shoulders tighter.

"So," she said quietly, "turns out I'm tired but can't sleep. I'm thinking of doing a Doctor Who marathon if you'd like to join me. And I’m pretty sure I spotted some ice cream in the freezer. Have I mentioned that I love your sister?”

He looked up at her with a small smile, the familiarity of her jumping from topic to topic pulling at something in his chest. 

“I mean, I’m assuming that it was her who bought the ice cream,” she continued, “cos you’ve never been the type to eat ice cream. Cos you know, obvious reasons.” She waved her hands up and down his body, then seemed to realise what she was doing and dropped them immediately. “Anyway, I’m going to watch some Doctor Who, if you’re interested.”

His smile widened. “I thought you hated Doctor Who.”

He watched as her face literally paled. “I did not just hear that sentence,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “I’m just kidding.”

This time she looked like her mind had just exploded. She let out a surprised laugh. “I did not just hear that sentence,” she said again. 

“Wait, let me guess. The other me never made jokes?” 

Still smiling, she took a seat next to him, pulling her legs up so she could cover herself completely under the throw. 

“It’s not like he never made jokes,” she said. “It was just that…well, I guess there was never really anything in his life that was very funny. Oh god, that sounds terrible. It wasn’t like he was grumpy all the time or anything. Or that life was _that_ bad. It’s just that you making jokes, it's just…” she snuck a sideways glance at him, then bumped her shoulder to his. “Different,” she finished.

“A good different?” he asked.

Her smile widened. “Just different. I’ll take any different, I don’t mind. As long as this stays possible.”

“What?”

“This. Me and you, sitting on a bench, making each other laugh.”

They lapsed into a friendly silence, letting her sentence and everything behind it sink in. He wondered what she was thinking, whether she was thinking about her Oliver. He had certainly surprised her with his Doctor Who tease, and it made him think back to what he had been like before. How he had returned from the island as someone who never laughed or made jokes. 

How Felicity, with her life and with her death, had changed that about him.

“So are we allowed to talk about it?” she asked quietly. “I mean, the other you and me?” Something must have shown in his face because she immediately backtracked. “No, never mind, it was a silly idea.” 

They fell into another silence, though this time Oliver could sense that Felicity felt a little uncomfortable. Before he knew what he was doing, he started to speak. 

“Do you know what the hardest thing was about coming back from Lian Yu? It was being back with my family. When I came back, it took Thea and my mom…and me…a long time to realise that time hadn’t stopped for us. That we weren’t the same people anymore. That was the hardest thing — trying to accept the people we had become. It was just another kind of…purgatory.” He took a deep breath, letting his eyes scan the city lights before him, the memories echoing through his mind. “And then I met Felicity. She was the first person who ever saw me for who I was, who I had become…more importantly, who I could be. And now that she’s gone…” he turned to her, looking deep into her blue eyes. “I’d like to honour her by doing the same for you. To see _you_.”

Her eyes glistened with tears, but she never dropped his gaze. After a while she gave him a tremulous smile as her hand snaked out from beneath her throw to capture his. Shuffling closer to him, she laid her head to rest on his shoulder.

“I thought we were going in to watch some Doctor Who,” he said, leaning his cheek against her head.

She gave his hand a squeeze. “I think I’d like to stay here.”

And as their breaths fell into sync, the scent of her all around him, and with the lights of Starling City spread out before them, Oliver couldn’t agree more.


End file.
